


Curtains

by illfoandillfie



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Car Sex, Dom!Roger, Exhibitionism, F/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, an argument where hurtful things are said, badly handled Feelings, little bit of choking, public fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2020-07-29 10:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20080528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illfoandillfie/pseuds/illfoandillfie
Summary: There’s a problem with your curtains…you don’t have any.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No one asked for this and I didn’t intend to write it but 🤷♀️🤷♀️🤷♀️ Inspired by a message I sent to my friend Elio (who also very kindly beta read it for me) about living with a big ol glass door in my bedroom that doesn’t have any curtains on it (true story). This fic is an ode to exhibitionism and uhhhhhh I need to get me a neighbour as cute as Roger.

The flat you’d rented was small – amounting to barely more than a bedroom, bathroom and kitchen-slash-living-slash-dining area – and needed a little work. Nothing huge, just small cosmetic stuff that even the poorest student could fix themselves without too much trouble. Which was okay since you and everyone else on the street were students, and none of you were particularly well off. It gave you something to bond with your neighbours over. Or it would if you could pluck up the courage to talk to any of them. You’d waved at the boys in the place next door once but the blonde one was too much your type for you to talk to without feeling flustered and you were already nervous enough just moving in. So you focused on settling in and imagined the conversations you’d have about the broken lightbulbs and loose taps. 

The most annoying thing you’d had to fix was the curtains. Not the curtains themselves, though they were worn and faded and musty enough to warrant replacing. No, it was the brackets that screwed into the wall and held the whole curtain rod up. They were splintered and chipped like someone had once tried to swing from the curtain rod and found it couldn’t quite hold up the extra weight. Someone probably had. Drunk most likely. Either way it felt like one harsh tug on a curtain would bring the whole thing down on your head. Which meant you’d had to spend an afternoon trying to find a screwdriver that fit so you could remove them and then you’d had to go to the hardware store to buy new brackets and screws. Of course, now it was a full month later and the new curtains you’d picked up still weren’t hanging. Your fault, obviously. The brackets you’d picked first were much too small to hold the rod you already had. Then you’d realised you need different screws and a new screwdriver since none of yours were the right size. And then between classes and adjusting to your new life it had kind of slipped your mind. 

It possibly should have bothered you more that the door that led from your bedroom into the back garden was left curtain-less, especially since it was a glass door. It had bothered you at first. You’d cursed yourself for a week straight for not fixing the damn thing, staring out into the dark garden as you tried to sleep, feeling like a good hard orgasm would help send you off but also feeling uneasy at doing it with no protection from the outside world. But then there’d come a night when you were just so overwhelmingly horny you couldn’t ignore it. A week of rushed orgasms in the shower and on the couch had left you desperate for something better, where you could take your time and really enjoy it. And you couldn’t shake the image of the blonde from next door. It was dark outside, you’d reasoned, and it wasn’t like you were facing the main road – just the back garden where no one was likely to go, especially not at quarter to midnight. And besides, you were safely hidden away under your covers in your dark room so there was no reason to believe anyone would see you. You slept better that night than you had since you moved in. 

A few nights later you did the same thing, after your cute blonde neighbour smiled at you. And then again the next night after he waved hello. And then the next day, because at nine in the morning on a Saturday you could almost guarantee you were the only one awake so really there was no risk and what else could you do when the only thing in your head was the neighbour’s laugh. You’d stayed tucked up that time, carefully watching for any sign of movement out the back door, but gradually you let the covers drop little by little. Before you knew it, you were regularly getting off in full view of the back garden. You knew that the chances of someone actually seeing you were tiny but something about the mere possibility of it happening had you reaching for the vibrator again. 

Which was the only explanation you had as to why you were yet again spread out on your bed, at two in the afternoon, skirt and underpants thrown to the side, shirt in a crumpled heap next to you. You held the vibrator against your clit once more, moaning as your orgasm began its approach again. You’d been going for twenty minutes or so with the vibe on the lowest setting, pressing it to your clit on and off, teasing yourself with it. Part of you wanted to flick it onto a higher setting now and just let yourself cum but part of you wanted to hold out, let it build a bit slower. You closed your eyes and let out a needy whine as you pulled the vibrator away again. After a few calming breaths you pressed it back to your clit. You could already feel your orgasm, picking up almost where you’d left it. Right as you were considering switching to a faster speed your eyes drifted to the door. A familiar figure was out there, in your back garden, casually looking into your room, blue eyes watching you intently. Your heart constricted with shock as your eyes met and you came, moaning loudly. By the time you’d got yourself back together he was gone. 

The fact that the cute blonde from next door that you may have a slight crush on saw you like that was enough to have you blushing for the rest of the day. Even the slightest sign of his long golden tresses had you ducking for cover. By the evening you were desperate for a drink so, after checking the coast was clear, you headed down to the local pub. Within minutes you were stationed at the bar, two empty shotglasses beside you and a full pint in your hands, trying to drown out the memory of those eyes through your door, and the small voice that was telling you to see if it could happen again. It was going as well as you could hope it would when you saw those same eyes fix on you in the mirror above the bar. Cheeks already burning, you watched as he downed his drink and walked in your direction.   
“I knew I was good but I didn’t realise I could make a girl cum just by lookin’ at her” You turned to look at your neighbour, his back was to the bar and he leaned back on both elbows as he looked you over.  
“That- that’s not what happened. It wasn’t you,” you managed to stutter out.   
He pushed himself to his full height, turning toward you, “But I think it did have something to do with me, even if it was just by virtue of my impeccable timing. See, I think you like knowing people are watching you. Innocent shy little thing like you doesn’t have curtains in her bedroom? Has to mean something. And I think it means I could have you cumming on my fingers right here in a matter of minutes because you like the danger and you like being naughty where anyone could see you.   
You struggled not to whimper as you listened to him, heart rate increasing with every word. And by the way he laughed he could tell just what an effect he was having on you.   
“I’m Roger.”   
“You’re my neighbour yeah?”   
“One of. And what should I call you?”   
“Y/N”   
“Well Y/N,” his fingers tickled your knee, “shall we test my theory?”   
You were already uncrossing your legs, letting them fall open so he could trail his fingers up the inside of your thigh. His touch crept higher and higher up your leg as he finally slipped into your underwear.   
“Already soaked.”   
You breathing was heavier than it had been a moment ago, eyes darting around the crowd on the search for anyone who might suspect what was happening.   
“Look at me, love. Eyes stay on me while my fingers are in your tight little cunt.”   
All you could do was nod as he slowly worked two fingers deep into you, terrified that if you tried to speak you’d alert someone and everything would grind to a halt. And then he leaned into your ear, speaking softly despite the surrounding noise.   
“God you’re fucking filthy aren’t you. Have to be to get off like this. Y’know I was coming over to introduce myself properly this afternoon. Seen you around enough, thought I should. No answer when I knocked at the front so I decide to try round the back in case you couldn’t hear me. And wasn’t I glad I did. Didn’t expect to see the shy new girl being such a slut, practically inviting everyone to watch her. Guess it was my lucky day.”   
You couldn’t hold in a whimper as Roger increased the pace of his fingers.   
“Haven’t stopped thinking about you since. About the way you came when you saw me. How your eyes went wide and how your cunt looked clenching around nothing. All the ways I want to fuck you in front of that door.”   
You came with a gasp, shuddering quietly as he pulled his fingers free and wiped them on your skirt.   
“Looks like I was right. Should I take you home now?”   
You knew he was being cocky and presumptive but all you could manage was a small, half begged, “Please.” 

The moment he was in your room his lips were on your neck, sending pulses of electricity through your body as he unzipped your skirt. He detached himself briefly to yank your shirt over your head and then he was back, sucking at your skin as you tilted your head to encourage him. His hands were warm as they ran over your body and yours trembled slightly as they tried to unfasten his pants. You managed to push them down past his hips, setting his cock free, before he spun you round and pushed you towards the bed.   
“Hands and knees facing the door,” he ordered as he wiggled the rest of the way out of his jeans.   
You paused to pull your underwear off and then hurried to obey. You watched from your position as Roger pulled his own shirt off and then he disappeared behind you. The bed dipped and your heart pounded against your chest.   
“Being such a good slut for me,” he said as he grasped your hip, “wanna hear you moaning like you were this afternoon.”   
The ‘yes’ you were about to give was lost in a whine as he eased into you. He gave you a moment to adjust, kneading your arse, and then his fingers were digging into you as he began fucking you in earnest. It was rough and deep and there wasn’t much more you could do than clutch at the sheets and whine his name. You dropped your head forward but almost straight away his hand was around your throat forcing you to look up again.   
“Gotta keep looking at that door. Never know when someone could come by. And you wanna be seen don’t you.”   
You didn’t respond, too focused on how good he felt, but you did squeal when he pulled you backwards onto your knees, his hand squeezing your throat, his cock buried deep inside you.   
“Maybe I should call my bandmates over, let them see how slutty the new girl is.”   
You shook your head as much as you could under his grip but Roger just laughed in your ear.   
“Your head says no but by the way your cunt just clenched around me I’d say you quite like the idea.”   
You shook your head again, “Please move Roger, please fuck me.”   
“No,” He wrapped his free arm around your stomach, holding you still against him, “not till you admit you like the idea of people watching you like this,”   
You bit your lip, trying to wiggle out of his hold but it was too tight. You gave in, “fine Roger you win. I like it.”  
“Like what?”   
“Roger, fuck, I like the idea of being watched. I came when you saw me because you saw me and I kinda want someone to come over and see me now.”   
“Was that so hard to admit? Silly little slut.”   
You couldn’t respond because both his hands were gripping your hips, setting you to bouncing on his cock and the only coherent words you could form were ‘oh’ and ‘fuck’. You grabbed onto one of his wrists for support as you brought your other hand to your clit, furiously chasing your release.   
“Christ,” Roger groaned.   
You were sure you’d find bruises in the morning from how hard he was holding you but as your orgasm hit nothing could have convinced you it wasn’t worth it.   
You chanted his name, each separate “Roger” growing louder and overlapping until it sounded like one continuous word.   
He came with a grunt, followed by a gruff, “fuck” as you collapsed to the mattress together. 

He stayed long enough to catch his breath and get redressed, talking to you while you lay where you’d landed when he’d lifted you off himself.   
“Next time I’ll fuck you up against the door shall I? Or maybe I’ll open it and let the rest of the street hear you.”   
You laughed softly without really understanding, watching as he pulled his shirt back on and made to leave. He paused in the doorway, “And hey, welcome to the street.” And then he was disappearing into the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You still haven’t fixed those curtains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this for my tumblr daughter's birthday since she was the reason I wrote part 1.
> 
> It's not the sequel fic ya’ll were hoping for but it’s the one ya’ll are getting for the moment.

It had been a full two weeks since your encounter with Roger and your curtains still weren’t up. If anyone had asked, you’d have said something about not having the right tools, or not being able to do it on your own, or that really you hadn’t noticed because you’d been so busy with school work you’d spent most nights this past week sleeping in a corner of the library. None of that was true. The reality was that you were just hoping Roger would come back and make good on his promises. You’d considered going to his place, but every time you came close, you’d chicken out. The idea of knocking on his door and seeing his smug face when he realised how badly you wanted him again, was almost too much to bear. And god, what if his roommate answered? It’d be mortifying, knowing he knew you were there to try and score another shag. You had no idea how likely it was that Roger had told anyone about you or what had occurred but the possibility that his roommate knew anything kept you away from their front door. 

You’d considered striking up a flirty conversation at the pub and more than once you’d gone there intending to do just that. The memory of the first time he’d talked to you, there at the bar, kept intruding, playing on a loop in your mind as you ordered a drink, hoping alcohol would dull your sense of self-preservation enough that you could muster up the courage to talk to him. It never quite worked. Usually he was already wrapped up in a conversation, a half empty beer in his hand, when you got there. Mostly it was with friends, the same ones you saw walking up his driveway every other day. Sometimes it was other girls. Either way you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt. Not when all you could think about how he’d made you cum in public and you were worried that thought would be the first thing out of your mouth. Instead you’d buy a few drinks and try not to stare at him too much as you finished them. Then you’d go home and imagine what you would have said if those other people hadn’t been there, imagine how things could have gone if you weren’t quite so shy, and pray he’d notice you next time. 

You’d almost given up hope he’d come around again when you heard a tapping at your back door, pulling your focus from the assignment you were trying to write. His stare through the glass reminded you of the first time he’d been here, watching you, and you hurried to open the door.   
“You expecting someone?” he asked indicating your bare legs under the long shirt you had on, “Or just hoping?”   
“Hoping,” you said quietly, heart racing at the cocky smile he gave you in return. You’d known he’d be smug about it but somehow it only made you want him more.   
“You gonna let me in, love?”   
“Sorry, yeah,” you stood back to let him in, holding the door open as he crossed the threshold, and closing it softly behind him.   
“Still haven’t put those curtains up,” he turned and pointed at the doorway as if there were multiple unhung curtains he could be talking about, “Not really a surprise though.”   
“Like I said, hoping.”   
Roger chuckled as he stalked towards you. You took a step backwards and found yourself with your back pressed against the door.   
“I’ve seen you at the pub you know. Trying to decide if you should come talk to me or if that’d give away how desperately you want me to fuck you again. Still shy, aren’t you?”   
You nodded as he moved into your personal space, using his knee to part your legs. You lowered your eyes but he tilted your chin up, giving you no choice but to look him in the eye.   
“That’s okay. I like knowing I can make a shy little girl like you moan like a whore.”   
You whimpered as he brushed his fingers over your clit, teasing you through your underwear. He moved as close as he could get, leaning down to nip at your shoulder as he brushed your clit softly again and again until you attempted to press your hips into his hand, desperate for a firmer touch.   
“So desperate for me, aren’t you?” he asked as he slid his hand into the top of your underwear, dragging his fingers through your wet folds.   
You whined as he focused on your clit.   
“You remember what I said last time?”   
“W-which part,”   
“When I told you how I wanted to fuck you,”   
“Yes,” you gasped as he removed his hand from you entirely, but it was just so he could tug your underwear to the side and change the position of his hand. He placed two fingers at your entrance but stopped, teasing you with them.   
“And what did I say?”   
“Up against the door,”   
“And the other way?”   
“With the door op-open,” you were rewarded with his fingers pressing into you as his thumb came to rest on your clit. Your breath caught in your throat as he began to pump his fingers into you rapidly.   
“Bet you’ve been thinking about that a lot, haven’t you?”   
“Yes,” it slipped out in a moan.   
“Waiting for me to come back, use you the way you want to be used.”   
“Yes. Pl-ease Roger, ‘m close,”   
“Which way do you want more?”   
You couldn’t think clearly with his fingers were pumping into you, his thumb pressed against your clit, his voice in your ear.   
“Gotta give me an answer, love, otherwise you’ll get neither.”   
You whined as you tried to understand what he meant.   
“Fine,” Roger stopped, his fingers still inside you, and brought his other hand up to your throat, pinning you against the door entirely, “Answer me. Or I’ll use your mouth and leave without letting you cum.”   
“Open door,” you gasped out, not sure if that’s the one you wanted more or it was just the last one you thought about and the closest for your brain to reach.   
“Good girl.” He tightened his grip on your throat as he began stroking your g-spot as his thumb resumed its movements on your clit.   
In a matter of seconds you were coming undone, a hand wrapped around his wrist near your throat, for support. 

You could almost have cried as his fingers left you, grabbing you by the arm instead to pull you away from the door as he opened it. You hastened to pull your shirt of as he pushed your underwear down your legs. As soon as they hit the floor he grabbed you again, turning you round and placing your hands against the glass door as he pulled your hips back. If someone had taken that moment to sneak into your backyard and look through the open door, they would have had a clear view of Roger running his cock along your pussy, teasing you before ramming into you, making you mewl.   
“Gotta be louder than that if you want to cum,” he growled as he thrust into you rapidly, forcing stuttered moans from you with every snap of his hips. Roger had one hand on your hip and one on your back to keep you steady. The slapping sound of skin on skin mixed with the constant rattle of the door, every shift making it bang against the skirting board, and your constant moans, unabashedly loud. He dropped his hand from your back to your clit, building the pressure in the pit of your stomach. And then you heard it, amongst all the noise, something different and out of place.   
“W-wait R-r-r-oger,”   
He stopped and pulled out as you felt behind you, tapping his side.   
“What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?”   
“No, nothing like that. Heard a noise.”   
“Heard a noise?” He scoffed but you shushed him, listening for the noise again.   
Suddenly you heard a bang.   
“Oh, Jesus Y/N. That was just a car door.” Roger peaked out the doorway, craning his neck to see and you did the same, “Pretty sure it came from my place. Can’t believe I pulled out of your tight little cunt because Bri’s fucking come over again.” He pushed you back down against the door, “whole point of fucking you like this is so the street can hear what a slut you are.”   
You moaned loudly as he entered you again, returning to his fast pace, only now he also added a few slaps to your arse to make you squeal. You were sure you heard the footsteps heading up next door’s driveway stop, their owner listening to your pornographic noises. The thought only made you more desperate to cum. You dropped one arm from the rattling door, intending to rub your clit and push yourself over the edge, but Roger caught your wrist and slammed your hand back over the handprint you’d left on the glass.   
“No,”   
“Please,”   
“Not yet,”   
“Please,”   
“Ask again and I’ll stop,” he growled, breathing heavily between words.   
You whined as he continued to pound you, but refrained from begging, even though your whole body was screaming at you to cum. Next door was quiet again, no more car doors and no more footsteps. Though the voice in the back of your head that wondered if anyone was still there, listening to you, was much louder than before. Every rustle in a tree made you think someone was sneaking into your yard for a better look. Without warning Roger dropped his hand to rub your clit again.   
“Gonna cum for me? Let everyone hear you?”   
You didn’t need any more encouragement. Spots appeared in front of your tighly shut eyes as you screamed Roger’s name, your climax hitting you with the force of a moving train. He wasn’t far behind, groaning in your ear as he filled you with his cum. Even in your post-coital, orgasm induced daze you were sure you heard a bark of laughter and a door closing next door. 

You remained leaning against the glass, breathing heavily until Roger could summon the energy to let go of you and walk the three steps to your bed. He collapsed there on his back, arms spread out, and you followed, curling up next to him, still trying to catch your breath. This time Roger stayed longer than the five minutes it would have taken to get dressed, pulling you deeper into his side.   
“You aren’t leaving?”   
“I can if you want me to,” he sounded tired but he made to sit up anyway.   
“No, stay, I like it better this way.” You spoke softly, wrapping an arm around Roger as he settled back down, “That was really good by the way.”   
“Yeah it was,”   
“You ever want to do it again let me know,”   
“Or you could let me know,”   
“I spose,”   
“Y/N, I think if you can moan my name and let me call you a slut, you can talk to me at the pub. I promise I won’t bite. Not unless you ask me to anyway.”   
“You’re always with your mates though, I couldn’t.”   
“You could. They see me every day, would probably thank you for taking me off their hands.”   
“But…then they’d know,”   
“You mean about how you can’t get enough of my cock?” He laughed.   
If you had the energy to move you would have punched him in the arm.   
“Think they already know, love. Pretty sure they would’ve heard you just now.”   
You groaned, “God I’m never going to be able to look them in the eye,”   
“Can’t beg me to fuck you in front of an open door and then get embarrassed when people hear you.”   
“I didn’t beg,”   
“Close enough. Maybe next time I’ll make you.”   
“You sure there’s going to be a next time?”   
Roger laughed again, “Definitely not the last time we do something like that. You enjoy it too much to stop and I’ve got more I want to do to you.”   
You pushed yourself up onto your elbow to look at Roger properly, “You got something in mind? For next time?”   
“Might do,” Roger still sounded tired but there was an excitement in his tone underneath it, “you should come to my show.”   
“Your show?”   
“I’m in a band, Queen, we’re playing down the pub in two days’ time, you should come.”   
“You any good?”   
“Well I think so but, y’know, might be a bit biased. Besides, was more thinking we could find a cleanish bathroom afterwards and make sure the whole place can hear you. Or there’s the backstage room. The boys might be hanging around but I bet you’d find that hot. Could fuck them too if you were so inclined.”   
“I don’t think I am inclined,”   
“Good, I don’t really want to share you,”   
You squeezed your thighs together as a wave of arousal rolled through you, “I’ll be there,”   
“Dirty girl,”   
“Just for the music,”   
“If you get there early you can take me before the show as well as after.”   
“What time’s early?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go to see Roger play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 is finally here! I also have parts 4 and 5 planned out so hopefully I should be able to get them up soonish too.

The pub wasn’t actually named _the pub_. It did have a proper name. Something about a boar’s head or a king’s arms, so you’d heard. But no one ever used its name, they just called it _the pub_. It was the only one in the area students regularly went to because it was cheap and usually had alright bands playing. The beer might have been piss weak and the glasses a little on the dirty side but that was a small price to pay for a small price and a good guitar. You got there an hour before Queen were due to go on, heading straight to the bar as you tried to find Roger in the crowd. You’d seen his van as you cut through the carpark so you knew he was there somewherebut the clusters of people standing around talking and drinking made it hard to spot him. You thanked the barman as he handed over your drink, taking a sip as you scanned the faces nearest you.   
“You made it,”   
You turned at the sound of Roger’s voice, find him leaning against the bar like he had been the first time you spoke, a cigarette held delicately between his fingers,“looks like,”   
“Early too,”   
“Am I?” you took a sip of your drink, trying to calm the butterflies that had appeared when he did.   
“Don’t play coy with me, love, both know why your here,”   
“And why would that be?”   
He pushed himself off the bar, exhaling another plume of smoke into the already smoky room, and took a step closer, crooking his finger until you leaned in. A shiver ran through you when you felt his fingertips on your jaw and then his breath on your ear.   
“Think I wanna hear you ask for it,”   
You almost whimpered as he took the drink from your hand, sipping it as he resumed his position against the bar again. His eyebrow quirked up as he looked at you, waiting, the cigarette back between his lips.   
You took a breath but your voice stuck in your throat when you noticed the barman coming back towards where you were standing.   
“Eyes on me, love, and tell me why you got here early,”   
“Because I want you to fuck me,” you almost whispered, “been thinking about it since last time.”   
“Mmhmm, and why would that be?”   
Your eyes darted around the room again, eventually settling back on Roger, pleading with him not to make you say it out loud.   
“C’mon, don’t have all night.”   
You whined, trying to stall as long as possible but Roger just took another sip and waited.   
“BecauseI’maslut,” it all came out in a mumbled rush, your apprehensiongetting in the way.   
“Again, so I can hear you,”   
You took a breath and focused on Roger, trying to block out the din around you, “Because I’m a slut,”   
Roger chuckled, “I am never going to get tired of making you squirm like this,”   
“You’re so mean,”   
“Maybe, but you like it,” another drag, another puff of smoke swirling into the air, “Gets you wet,”   
You couldn’t deny the truth of his statement, opting instead to silently watch him as he finished your drink and stubbed out the cigarette in a nearby ashtray.   
“I’d offer to finger you right here, since I know how much you enjoy that, but you’re not wearing a skirt and that makes it much harder to be inconspicuous. So let’s find somewhere a little more private, yeah?”

Roger took you by the hand and led you towards the men’s room. It wasn’t as dirty as you’d imagined it would be, though not as clean as you’d have liked.The door hadn’t even swung shut behind you and his deft fingers were already unbuttoning your shorts. You gasped softly as pushed his hand into your underwear.   
“Good thing you’re such a slut because we’re on the clock,”Roger slipped his hand free and backed you towards the sink, “go on, up you get.”   
You pushed your shorts and underpants down and pulled yourself up, legs swinging over the edge of the counter, expecting Roger to undo his fly as you got comfortable. Instead he moved closer, pulling your pants down fully, leaving them dangling from one foot as he tapped on your thigh.   
“Wider, c’mon, can’t expect me to eat you out with your legs shut.”   
You adjusted your position with some direction from Roger, letting him put one of your legs over his shoulder.   
“Thought you said this was go-oh!” your train of thought was interrupted as Roger’s tongue met your pussy.   
“Going to be quick? It will be,”   
You could feel him smirking as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh and then he was back to business, dragging his tongue over you, collecting your slick. You moaned as he met your clit, earning a _good girl_ from Rogerfollowed by two of his fingers plunging into you. His other hand was on your thigh, holding you in place as wrote his name out with his tongue. You were a quivering mess by the time he reached the last ‘r’, fingers tangled in his hair. The myriad noises that he’d pulled from youfell into a whine as he drew away, his fingers still pumping into you.   
“God you’re pathetic.”   
“Rog,” you whined, tugging on his hair as you tried to get him to continue.   
“Don’t worry, not gonna leave you like this. This time anyway.”   
He didn’t wait for a reply,leaning back in and wrapping his lips around your clit. You cries echoed around the bathroom, only getting louder and more needy as you got closer to your orgasm. You were vaguely aware of the bathroom door opening and then quickly closing again but you couldn’t find it in you to care that someone had seen. You dropped your head back, leaning against the mirror as you finally fell over the edge. Roger’s mouth didn’t leave your cunt, lapping up the mess he’d caused until you pushed him away.    
“Jesus, Rog,”   
“Told you it’d be quick,” he laughed, wiping his mouth on his arm, “but I’m not done with you yet. Couldn’t possibly go on stage in this state,” hemotioned to where his cock was straining against his tight pants.   
“You sure? Hidden behind your drums anyway,”   
“Cheeky, after what I just did for you. Should make you suck me off.”   
“I could if you wanted,” you pulled your shorts off your foot, dropping them on the counter next to you, and hopped off the sink, “floors a bit gross though.”   
“Mmm as tempting as the idea of making you kneel on the men’s room floor and beg to blow me is,” he said as he pushed his pants down to his knees, “I’d rather use your cunt. Bend over.”   
You reacted too slow for Roger’s liking. He grabbed you by the hips and spun you around, pushing you down over the bench roughly. You managed to get your hands under you before your nose hit the sink, but Roger didn’t seem to care, ramming his dick into you before you were fully settled.   
“Jesus, Rog,” yougasped as he held himself flush against you, rubbing your hips with his thumbs.   
“Thought you’d be used to how big I am by now,”   
“God you’re full of yourself. Actually meant that I wasn’t quite ready, could’ve used another second or two.”   
“Clock’s ticking,”   
“Alright alright, you gonna fuck me then or just stand around talking about it,”   
“Still a desperate slut,”   
“Only when you’re around.”   
Roger laughed, leaning down to press his lips to your neck as he began thrusting into you, “Good. Now let’s make sure every else knows you’re _my_ slut.”

When you left the bathroom, hair  and clothes hastily smoothed back into place , you caught a few people looking at you. Roger left you as soon as you were out the door , pinching your bum (in the same spot he’d just cleaned his cum from) as he told you  he’d meet you after the gig.  Which left you to face the smirks and stares on your own. You bought yourself another drink ,  doing your best to ignore the murmuring that you were almost positive was  about you and the sleezy pickup lines thrown your way. As soon as your drink was in hand you retreated to the  other end of the room, as far from the bathrooms as possible .  It still felt like everyone was looking at you but deeper in the crowd there were  fewer cocky men who  saw you as easy prey then there were  towards the bar. But once the music started it was easy to forget  just how many people had  potentially  heard you moan Roger’s name . Ironically, because you were so focused on the man himself.  The longer you watched the band play,  the more  fixated on Roger you became.  Perhaps it was because he’d finished before you could cum a seco nd  time  and then flat out refused to  do anything else to get you off, claiming it was  incentive for you to stay , but watching him was making you increasingly horny.  It was the way he moved. The  speed,  the intensity.  You didn’t know a single fucking thing about playing the drums, but you knew he was good.  His fingers  alone were mesmerizing, twirling his drumstick s b e tween songs and between notes . You found yourself zoning out once or twice, thinking about what  you wished those fingers were doing to you ,  dwelling on the way he was  sitting with his legs  spread a  little ,  almost inviting you to kneel between them.  You barely registered the rest of the band,  noting them enough to  realise you liked their sound  and that you’d seen each of them around Roger’s place at one time or other ,  but unab le to pull your attention away from Roger long enough to do take in much more.  By the time their set was over you were already pushing your way through the crowd towards where they’d exit the stage. 

You hung back a little as the first three members filed off the stage, smiles plastered on all their faces as they met up with a few friends, excitedly talking about how well the set had gone. Roger spotted you straight away and instantly headed in your direction.   
“You like the show?” he asked, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. There was sweat clinging to his chest where his shirt buttons were undone. You resisted the urge to wipe it away.   
“Loved it! You can really play,”   
“Yeah, no shit,” he laughed, “did you have a favourite part?”   
“Hmmm, think it was the way you kept twirling thosesticks,”   
“And here I was thinking you’d come for the music,”   
“The music was good too,”   
Roger casually twirled a drumstick, the motion instantly catching your attention, “Mmhmm, sure. Think you might’ve been a bit distracted to notice.”   
“It’s not my fault you’re so distracting. Besides, you’re the one who left me feeling so… worked up,” you pouted, hoping Roger would take the hint.   
He laughed, glancing over his shoulder at the others, “How about we remedy that, then?”   
“Not too tired after playing?”   
“Nah, too much adrenaline to be tired. C’mon,” he grabbed your hand and pulled you off to the side where a corridor ran down to a back door. You expected him to lead you through it but instead he turned and slipped into a small room not much larger than your average closet. A single lightbulb swungfrom the ceilingyour, illuminating a lonely jacket hanging from a hook on the wall, and a small stash of extra toilet paper and urinal cakes.   
“I’d have taken you out to the van but the others’ll head out to it soon and I don’t really want to be interrupted by them.”   
“So you went for a storage cupboard instead? The other day you said this place had a backstage room,”   
“Yeah, this is it.”   
“Roger!”   
“What? It’s a pub, Y/N, and a pretty shitty one at that.Frankly we’re lucky to get this space. Enough room to put our jackets while we’re playing. And for a post-show quickie.”   
“You’re lucky you’re a good lay,” you said with a shake of your head as you began unbuttoning your pants again. Next time you’d remember to wear a skirt.

Roger pulled his own pants off as you kicked yours towards the corner of the room. You backed yourself up against the door, pulling Roger closer by his shirt. Feeling suddenly much bolder than you’d ever felt before, youcouldn’t resist leaning forwardto lick a line up his exposed chest, tasting his sweat as you pulled away.   
“Jesus Y/N,”   
“Think you might be a bad influence, Rog. Can I suck you off?”   
“Good lord,” he mumbled and then, a little louder, “You used to be shy,”   
“Still shy. Should have seen how embarrassed I got when a guy at the bar suggested he fuck me to see if those noises I’d been making werereal or not.”   
“Prick,”   
“Don’t get jealous. I’m not _his_ slut. Now can I please blow you? Been thinking about it since you mentioned it before.”   
“Dirty girl, but no, not yet. We came in here to finish something and I intend to stick to that.” His hands fell to your arse, lifting you so you could wrap your legs around him. You were still giggling as he sunk into you again though it soon turned into a gasp as your back slammed against the door with the force of his thrust.   
“You good?”   
“Incredible. Do it again?”   
Roger repeated the movement, a short sharp cry rising into the air around youas he hit the perfect spot.You were already worked up from your earlier tryst and having watched him play, so it took almost no time at all for Roger to have you close to the edge, pornographic noises filling the small room in time with the rattle of the door.    
“D-don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you whined, lifting one hand from where it was clutching Roger’s shoulder. He watched closely, as you sucked a couple of your fingers into your mouth before dropping them to rub your clit, giving yourself the final push you needed. You dropped your head back against the door as you came,the hand still on Roger’s shoulder squeezing tight.    
“Good girl,” he panted as he fucked you through your high, “but I think you’ve got another one for me.”   
You just nodded, not sure if you could but also not ready to lose the feeling of him filling you yet.   
He didn’t change his pace, though his breath was coming harder, hot bursts of air hitting your neck asyou moaned his name. You felt almost dizzy as your orgasm drew closer, unrestrained pleas for him to make you cum leaving you in a rush as you desperately rubbed your clit. He only stilled when he felt you pulse around him, pressing you hard against the door, eyebrows furrowed as he held back his own release. As soon as he felt you relax he pulled out, lowering you to the ground and then pressing on your shoulder until you sank to your knees. You were glad to be on the floor, legs feeling just a little too wobbly to hold you steady.   
“Go on,” he rasped, “be a good slut and swallow for me.”   
He was already so close you didn’t have to do more than suck on his tip to have him swearing and releasing his load. You dutifully swallowed, licking a few spilt drops from your lips before showing him your clean tongue. Grinning, Roger held out a hand to pull you to your feet but before either of you could say anything there was a loud banging on the door.

“Are you two quite done in there? I need to get my jacket.”   
“Two seconds,” Roger called back, trying not to laugh at how mortified you looked, “Why’d you even bring a jacket?’s not like it’s that cold.”   
The only response was another series of thumps against the door.    
Roger rolled his eyes as you both pulled your pants back on before leading the way back out into the pub.   
“Here you go, Bri,” Roger said pushing the jacket into the hands of the lanky guitarist you’d briefly noticed on stage.   
“What’ve you done to it? Better not have stained it,”   
“Jesus I’m not an animal. It was hanging up the whole time.”   
“Finally finished have they?” The man you recognized as the lead singer said, appearing just in time to stop Roger and Brian from bickering.   
“Y/N, this is Freddie, the tall git is Brian and the one coming up now is John, he’s new” Roger pointed at each of them in turn.   
“Pleasure to meet you, darling. Y’know we’ve played a grand total of three shows together and our drummer here already thinks he’s a rockstar,” Freddie said to you before turning to Roger, “Where’d you manage to find yourself a groupie?”   
“Yeah and where’s ours?” John said, handing Roger a beer.   
“Fuck off,” Roger said, taking a swig and then offering the bottle to you. You took it gratefully, needing something to rinse your mouth out and a little liquid courage.    
“Wait,” Brian chimed in, having finished checking the coat for any possible marks of misuse, “is this your neigbour? The loud one?”   
“Based on what we just heard I’d say so.”   
“Unless Rog has found himself two birds who make those noises. Nice to meet you by the way.” John said with a small wave.   
You waved back, every fiber of your being telling you to run and hide. The only thing that kept you in place was Roger’s arm, looped protectively around your waist.   
“Alright, would you lot lay off already. This is Y/N. Yes, she lives next door. Yes, you’re going to drop the subject immediately.”   
“Calm down, Rog, just a bit of teasing,”   
“Yeah, you’re gonna fuck in public, you’re gonna cop some shit.”   
Roger sighed and squeezed your side reassuringly.   
“C’mon, we’re gonna go out to the van, you two joining us?”   
“Yeah, be out in a sec,”   
“Like fucking rabbits,”   
“That’s not why we need a sec,”   
You could hear the three of them laughing as they walked towards the back door you’d seen earlier.    
“Sorry about them,”   
“It’s okay, Rog, really.Could have been worse.”   
He smiled at you, the boyish grin illuminating his whole face, “Yeah, s’pose John’s right. Did kind of bring it on ourselves.” He took your hand as you talked, pulling you along as he weaved his way back to the bathrooms.   
“Geeze, Rog, I don’t think I’ve got it in me to go again.”   
“You’re as bad as the rest of them. I have to piss and figured you would as well.”   
“Oh! Yeah okay,” you laughed.

You met back up with Roger a few minutes later, stopping to get new drinks before you headed out the back to join the others. Almost as soon as you were inside the van you were bombarded with questions. They wanted to know everything about you – where you were from, what you were studying, what music you were into, what you’d thought of the show. They seemed to have gotten their jokes at your expense out of the way, although a few more aimed at Roger slipped through. It was a nice way to pass the evening, chatting and drinking as they waited for some of the crowd to dissipate before they moved their instruments. You watched them do that too, after they’d got sick of waiting around, offering to help but constantly being told not to worry. They played it off as being nice to the new girl, chivalrous not to make you carry anything heavy or awkward, but you thought it was much more likely they didn’t want anyone else touching their precious instruments. Finally, with the van loaded they were ready to call it a night. Roger opened the back door for you, smiling though he looked a little weary. It wasn’t a long drive, the radio barely making it through a full song before Roger was pulling into his driveway. Everyone shuffled out of the van, Freddie catching you in a hug as you bid everyone goodnight. Roger followed you down the footpath towards your front door.   
“You have a good night?”   
“Mmhmm, gonna sleep well for sure,”   
Roger laughed, taking a small step closer, “Good, was hoping you’d have fun,”   
“Let me know next time you guys play,”   
“You’re just saying that to get me in the bathroom again,”   
“You caught me, that’s exactly what I was thinking,” you said snidely.   
“Can’t fool me. I know my slut,”   
“Think I owe you a proper blowjob, since th-”you were cut off as Roger captured your lips in a firm kiss.It was a surprise at first, your body tensing with the shock, but you quickly relaxed into him, looping your arms around his neck as you kissed him back. You felt a little dazed when he pulled away.   
“Can I take you out? On a proper date? No public bathroom sex. Well, s’pose there could be public bathroom sex, but that’s not like, on the invitation, just an option.”   
“Rog you’re babbling,”   
“Yeah, sorry,”   
“I’d love to go out with you, properly.”   
“Cool, umm, how about Saturday? I’ll pick you up round six?”   
“Sounds great,” you said with a shy smile, “I’ll see you then, if not before.”   
“Yeah, see you then. Night,”   
“Night,” you watched him head back up the street towards his place, a slight bounce in his step.You were smiling right up until you got inside, but once you were alone you weren’t so sure a date was a good idea. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You turn Roger down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Penultimate chapter is a bit of a downer lmao

You’d managed to avoid Roger for a solid three weeks. It hadn’t been easy considering you went to the same  uni and lived next door to each other and you still hadn’t hung your curtains, but you’d been managing alright. There’d been a lot of ducking into bathrooms or around corners when you saw him on campus. A lot of studying on your couch rather than in your room to avoid him knocking at your door again. A lot of  leaving early and sneaking home when you knew he’d be playing at the pub or else crashing on friend’s couches when possible. Anything to avoid Roger and the questions he was sure to have about your cancelled date. 

The night he’d asked you out had been a sleepless one despite what you’d told him,  your brain keeping you up with misgivings about dating Roger. Sex with him was one thing but an actual date was a whole different ballgame, one you weren’t sure you wanted to play. You needed more time to think, weigh up what you wanted. Did you enjoy being around Roger? Or did you just like that he could get you off? Most of your conversations had happened just before you slept together, while you were too horny to think straight, or just after, while you were  coming down from the high . Which made it hard to know if you actually liked him, or it was just the endorphins talking. He seemed sweet enough , if a little full of himself, from what you knew about him,  but  really he was a giant question mark. He might be a complete arsehole. Or a control freak. He might be a serial womanizer. Or a serial killer.  So you’d called it off, the day after he’d asked you out. A purposeful accidental meeting on his way out of the house. It had taken hours of sitting by your front door, changing your mind over and over again as you waited for him to step outside and head towards his van. A small wave to get his attention and then, when he’d s miled and greeted you, an apologetic look and some bullshit about a family situation meaning you weren’t going to be able to see him on Saturday. The lack of sleep might actually have helped you sell your story. He’d looked disappointed but not half as disappointed as he was a minute later when he tried to reschedule, and you said you’d have to get back to him with a day that worked. Since then you’d done everything in your power to not see him.  Ostensibly so you could think things through, give yourself some time to work out what you actually wanted, though the reality of it was closer to making excuses and hiding. Sometimes literally hiding.  He’d come over a few times, sending you scurrying  for cover in your bathroom. You’d found notes each time, once or twice accompanied by a flower, saying he really wanted to talk with you. You stopped reading them after the third one, though you didn’t throw them out. Just left them in a pile on your coffee table, waiting for you to get curious enough to take a peek. And now it had all gone to shit because you’d forgotten to account for his dumb friends.

“Y/N, can you just tell me what’s going on?” Freddie asked you, having cornered you on campus before you could think to escape his notice. You hadn’t even considered Freddie or anyone besides Roger wanting to talk to you about it.    
“Sorry Freddie but it’s really none of your business. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got t-”   
“Rog has been really bummed out since you cancelled on him. Moping around, playing the worst fucking music. Constantly, for two and a half weeks now. Just rubbish record after rubbish record. I think that entitles me to an explanation of what the hell happened between you.”   
“It just didn’t feel right,” you shrugged.   
“But fucking in the pub bathroom did?”   
“That’s different,” you said, annoyed that he was inserting himself in your business, judging your actions, “The sex was just sex, I never signed up to get involved. Besides, Roger isn’t the sort of guy I date.”   
“Bullshit,”   
“What? You think because I'm shy and find it hard to approach men that I can’t have a casual fling? That I’m so desperate for attention I’ll say yes to anyone?”   
“Darling you don’t have a monopoly on being shy,” He paused for a moment, eyeing you up, “Everything you just said is rubbish.”   
“Excuse me?” You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting indignantly for Freddie to continue.   
“It’s got nothing to do with things not feeling right or whatever else you’ve told yourself. It’s because you’re scared. I know you were scared to approach him when you moved in and you were scared to make a move on him at the pub. I saw you, hoping he’d notice you. And we all saw you after the show the other week, laughing at his jokes and all those little smiles when you thought no one was looking. You turned him down because you got scared.”   
“Fuck off Freddie. We hung out one time, you don’t know me and frankly neither does Roger.”    
“Isn’t that the point of going on a date though? To get to know each other?”   
“Maybe I don’t want him to know me. He only thinks he’s interested because I’ve been sleeping with him. As soon as it stops being fun or he finds someone new, he’ll ditch me.”   
“You need to give Roger more credit than that.”   
“No, what I need to do is get to class,” you pushed past him.   
Freddie's voice followed you as your stormed off, “Fine, Y/N, but can you at least talk to Roger about it?”   
You threw him the V over your shoulder as you walked away. 

Still stewing over everything Freddie had said, you didn’t pay any attention to where you were walking.    
_Wanker_, you thought to yourself, _what’s it to him anyway. Not my problem Roger’s in a shitty mood and has crap taste in music. Says a handful of sentences to me while we hung out in the van one time and he thinks he knows a single thing about me. Thinks he can butt into my business. It’s got nothing to do with him if I never see Roger again! _You spent the next few minutes cursing Freddie and coming up with a list of things you wished you’d said to him, only stopping when you realised you were standing outside your front door, yelling a single, loud, “SHIT” into the air. That summed it up really. Shit. Everything was shit. Missing a class you really should have been at was shit, being cornered and read like a fucking book by Freddie was shit, not seeing Roger was shit. You decided to call the day what it was – a total fucking lost cause – and have a nap. Your bag thumped against the floor where you dropped it by the door, your shoes making equally loud bangs as you kicked them across the room. The small pile of notes still sat on the coffee table, taunting you, but you ignored it heading stright to your room. You shimmied out of your jeans and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over your head to block out the sun streaming in through the curtain-less door. _God I've really got to fix that_.

Just as you got settled you heard a tapping against the glass. You screwed your eyes shut, having a feeling you knew who causing the racket, and willed him to go away. He didn’t. Instead he tapped louder, his voice muffled by the glass as he called your name.    
“Y/N, I know you’re in there! I heard you swearing!”   
You buried your head under your pillow, trying to block him out. The constant tapping alone was getting on your nerves, never mind his voice.   
“I can fucking see you moving around! Can you please just talk to me?”   
“Go away Roger!”   
“Not until you talk to me!”   
“For fucks sake,” you hissed under your breath before throwing the covers back, “Fine!” You strode towards the door, yanking it open, “Fine, let's talk then.”   
“Drop the attitude Y/N. You’re the one who blew me off and then fucking disappeared for weeks, I just want to know why.”   
“Take the hint Roger, I don’t want to date you.”   
“Jesus, yeah I got that. Why are you being such a cunt about it though?”   
You stared at him for a few seconds, stung though you knew he was right.   
“Well? Are you going to say something, or just stand there?”   
You decided on neither, moving to shut the door in his face but he was too quick, wincing as it his his shoulder.   
“No, you owe me an explanation Y/N,” he said pushing the door wide enough to get inside, “What did I do? Something happened between me leaving and the next day when you cancelled and I want to know what the fuck it was,”   
“I came to my senses that’s what happened,” you stood your ground even as he invaded your personal space and a voice screamed in the back of your head to just stop and be honest.   
Roger shook his head, “You think you’re being so fucking clever, don’t you? Well you’re not. You’re just being a bitch.”   
“You don’t know me, Roger. You think cos we fucked a few times you know a single goddamn thing about me but you don’t.”   
“I had it right the first time.”   
“What?”   
“The first time I fucked you. Left as soon as I’d finished with you, that was the right idea. All that hanging around after shit was a waste of time.”   
“Yeah well, if you ask me none of it was worth it. Should have realised after the first time you weren’t a good enough fuck anyway.   
“That's bullshit and we both know it. Do you have any idea how fucking pathetic you looked, how desperate, waiting for me to notice you? One fucking word was all it took to have you spread your legs for me, and in a room full of strangers no less. Literally begged to suck me off last time, like a proper slut. You’re the easiest pussy I ever got, Y/N. And It was stupid of me to think you were worth more than the time it took me to cum.”   
“That’s how you feel is it?”   
“Yeah, it is,”   
“Really?”   
“Yes.” His voice was dripping with contempt as he glared at you.

There was a beat as Roger seemed to realise what he’d said, eyes widening in horror and then your hands were at his fly, nails catching against the denim as you almost tore the button off in your haste.    
“Y/N wh-”   
“Shut up and fuck me,”   
He still looked a little shocked as you made to pull his shirt off.   
“Jesus, do I have to do everything,”   
That reignited his frustration and he managed to do what you couldn’t, tearing a few of the buttons from your shirt, sending them scattering across the floor, as he pulled it open to reveal your breasts. You got a hand into his pants, tugging at him as he pushed you towards your bed, door left standing open behind him. There was no time to think, no time to talk. One minute you’d been cursing at each other and the next you were lying on your back with Roger roughly pulling you towards the edge of the mattress. He let go of you long enough to get his pants down, moving your underwear to the side as he lined himself up. Your back arched when he entered you and you gasped as he paused.   
“Fucking move, arsehole,”   
“Still a pathetic slut,” he growled back bringing a hand to your throat as he leaned over and rammed into you. He’d been rough with you before but not like this. Careless. Inconsiderate. Brutal. Roger found a harsh rhythm and stuck to it, tightening his grip on your throat whenever you opened your mouth to hurl another insult his way. You grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin which only seemed to inspire a rougher treatment. He didn’t bother to rub your clit, made no attempt to hold off his own orgasm and let you catch up. Left it up to you to get there or not. The familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach was only beginning to build when he grunted in your ear, hips stuttering. He left you feeling empty and unsatisfied, tucking himself away as you sat up and stared. There was a moment of quiet, both of you breathing heavily, watching the other.    
“That’s exactly why I cancelled,” you said softly. You could feel your chest tightening, eyes prickling, but you were determined not to break down in front of Roger.    
His shoulders slumped as he looked at you, absentmindedly raking his fingers through his hair, “Y/N, I’m, fuck, that wasn’t-“   
“Get out,” Your voice was steady.   
“That’s not how I wanted it to go. I didn’t mea-"   
“Just get the fuck out of here Roger.”   
He gave you a final apologetic look before flinging himself out of the door and disappearing around the corner. You held yourself together just long enough for him to leave and then you sunk to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, tears falling onto them and rolling down your legs as your body shook with sobs. You hoped he could hear, door still standing open. You hoped the whole fucking street could hear. 

Over the next few days the fight was all you could think about. He, thankfully, hadn’t left any bruises or marks on your throat, but there was a dull pain where he’d thrust into you so roughly, like he’d bruised your insides. A constant reminder of what happened, not that you needed one. You heard Roger’s taunts almost in a loop, each word drilling into your skull. _A_ c_unt_. _Easy_. _Pathetic_.Every time you closed your eyes you saw him, glaring at you, spitting out how little he thought of you. But the hurt settled into a bitter vindication. So much for Freddie’s faith in Roger, you’d been right after all. Maybe you didn’t go about it the cleanest way but you’d done the right thing. You saw hide nor hair of Roger, not even so much as a glimpse of him on campus, though Freddie and Brian both tried to trap you. From what you could gather, they knew you and Roger had fought but knew nothing of the specifics. Every time you passed them they tried to stop you, but you ignored them, walked away as they yelled after you that Roger was sorry.    
“He’s really fucking torn up about whatever he said to you,” Brian said softly, catching your arm as you walked home, “I keep catching him mumbling to himself about it. He swears he didn’t mean it, whatever he said.”   
“Sounded like he meant it,” you wrenched your arm free and doubled your pace until you reached the safety of your living room. Eventually they stopped, giving up on trying to convince you, and you thought it was done.

Until the day you got home from an evening class to find Roger sitting cross legged in front of your door. You stopped in your tracks, “What are you doing here?”   
Roger jumped to his feet, dusting his hands off on the back of his jeans, “I Just want to talk,” he held up his hands like someone in a movie, trying to prove they didn’t have any weapons.    
“I don’t want to talk.” The people in the movies usually had a knife or something hidden up their sleeve.   
“Please, Y/N? I’m really sorry about what happened last time. I understand if you never want to see me again and if that’s the case then I’ll leave you alone after today. But I’d like to have a better goodbye than that.”   
Crossing your arms over your chest, you considered him. Part of you wanted to tell him where to stick his apology. But he did look genuinely upset and sorry and you felt guilty, knowing the part you’d played, “Fine. Can you move so I can open my bloody door?”   
“Actually,” he glanced next door, “I was hoping we could go for a drive. The other three are home and I don’t want them to overhear.”   
“Worried they’ll take my side?”   
“No. It’s just none of their business. So, do you mind?”   
On one hand, a bit of privacy would probably be good and being elsewhere might stop another scene from erupting. On the other, though, it was harder to tell Roger to fuck off if he was your ride home.   
“We wouldn’t go far, just away from here.” He looked over at his place again.    
“Yeah, okay,” You said quietly.   
Roger gave you a small smile, and held his hand out in an _after you_ gesture, letting you lead the way to his van. 

The drive was almost silent. Music had started playing as the engine came to life but Roger turned it off before you could hear more than a few notes of the melancholy tune.    
“Not your usual sound,” you said, awkwardly trying to make small talk.   
“Spose not.”   
You didn’t know what to say. Neither, it seemed, did Roger. Luckily, he didn’t go much further than a few blocks, pulling into the carpark of the local park. Usually the place would be crawling with children, screaming at each other and their parents. But now that the sun had set it was virtually deserted. A few people taking their dogs for late walks passed by as he backed the van into a spot.   
“Let’s sit in the back, more space,” Roger said climbing through and opening the back doors.   
“No instruments tonight?”   
“Nah, not tonight.” Another small smile as he helped you through. You settled in the doorway, legs pulled in close to your body, taking up as little space as you could manage. Roger sat opposite, chewing on his lip as he turned his head to stare out over the dark park.   
“I am very sorry about what I said the other day,” he looked at you and then back towards the pond, “I had an idea of what I wanted to happen except it didn’t go that way. I got pissed off and just wanted to hurt you.”   
“Mission accomplished.”   
“I know. Haven’t stopped thinking about it since. The second I left and h-heard you crying, I wanted to turn the clock back and undo it all. It was so cruel. Everything I said, did, was just needlessly cruel and I cannot apologise enough. I didn’t mean any of it.   
“I know you didn’t mean it. Don’t get me wrong, it sucked but I pushed you on purpose,” You let your eyes wander over Roger’s face, watching his reaction, “I wanted to hear you say something like that. And then I instigated the sex because doing it confirmed what you’d said. It was just a way to prove I was right to not go out with you. Make myself feel better about being so horrid to you.”   
He sighed, bring a hand up to rub the back of his neck “Like I said, not how I wanted it to go.”   
You both stopped, waiting for the other to say something, though when it became clear Roger wasn’t going to continue, you stepped up.   
“Guess I was looking for a fight. Freddie caught me off guard earlier, standing up for you, so I was already pissed off. I would have had a crack at just about anyone who came past but seeing you just made it worse,” you let yourself relax a bit, one leg slipping down to dangle out of the van, “We can talk now though. Promise I won’t bite your head off.”   
“I just want to understand why you changed your mind. That’s all. Not to try and convince you to change it back or anything, I just want to know if something I did upset you or…”   
“It wasn’t anything you did, Rog.”   
He nodded, looking a little relieved, “Can I ask what it was then?”   
“Yeah, umm” you sighed, trying to find the right words, “When you asked me out and I said yes, I was still on this high from the whole night. Hanging out with you and your mates was fun and fucking you in the pub was fun. And then you kissed me, which I wasn’t expecting. You’d never kissed me before.So going out with you seemed like a good idea. But then as soon as I was alone again, I freaked out about it. Freddie was right. He called me out for being scared and he was right.”   
“Scared of what?”   
“Everything? I don’t know. Scared you’d only asked me cos you’d been drinking or so I’d keep sleeping with you. Scared of getting hurt when you realised you didn’t really like me. Scared that one date would lead to two would lead to a serious fucking relationship. I panicked and decided it was easier to cut everything off thank risk anything. I handled this whole thing appallingly didn’t I?”   
“Yeah, little bit.”   
“Sorry.”   
You both fell into silence again. Roger’s brow was furrowed as he looked at his own fingers. You stared out at the pond, the stars reflected in the water blurring the longer you went without blinking. 

It started to rain softly, the drops tapping against the roof of the van. You barely noticed the drops splashing onto your ankle or the chill wind that accompanied the shower, too caught up in your own head, trying to work out how to fix the situation you’d tangled yourself and Roger in.   
“Shit, you’re shivering,” Roger said, breaking through the mess of thoughts swirling round your head, “I think I have a blanket back here somewhere.”   
You watched, rubbing your arms to try and fend off the cold you’d only just noticed.    
“Here,” Roger said at last, throwing a fuzzy blanket over your shoulders, “Wrap yourself up in that,”   
“Aren’t you cold too?” you glanced at the t-shirt he wore.   
“Nah, I’ll be right,”   
“We could share,”   
“I don’t want to overstep,”   
“You wouldn’t be. Plus the extra body heat might help me warm up faster,”   
“Are you sure you’re okay with it?”   
“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”   
Roger scooted closer, pausing before he came closer again, testing the waters. When he reached you he pulled the blanket around his own shoulders, one arm falling behind you so he was pressed in close.   
“Definitely warmer,” you said, leaning your head against his chest, ready to spring back up if he said anything. It felt nice to be so close to him again, without the anger of the last time.    
“I did mean it, when I asked you out. It was a genuine request not some ploy to keep sleeping with you or whatever. Just so we’re clear.”   
You nodded, leaning into him. Without thinking you began tracing your fingers over his wrist, following some marks you couldn’t see properly. There was a pang of guilt as you realised your nails had left them there.   
“It doesn’t hurt,” he said softly, reading your mind, “probably deserved it. Did I hurt you?”   
“A bit yeah."   
He shifted your hair, trying to see any signs of how he’d squeezed your throat.   
“Not there.”   
“Oh, Y/N,” he held you tighter, wrapping his second arm around you, pulling you against him, “I’m so sorry,”   
“It’s okay Rog. Only hurt for a couple of days. And if anyone should apologise more it’s me. I was a cunt and you didn’t deserve how I treated you.”   
“It’s okay. I get why. But why don’t we make an agreement to stop going in circles apologising to each other and put it behind us, if we can.”   
“Go back to before?” You asked slowly, sitting up to look at Roger, trying to get a feel for what he was hoping for, “Hooking up casually?”   
“If that’s what you want, I can do casual. We don’t have to though; I’d be happy to just be friends, or whatever. As long as we’re not fighting anymore.”    
“Friends would be good. But maybe you should try asking me out again? If you’re still interested?”   
“Really? I don’t want you to feel obligated to say yes out of guilt or because you want to make it up to me.”   
“Ask me,”   
This time when he spoke there was no hesitation, “Do you want to go out with me sometime?”   
“I’d really like that.”   
Roger tilted your head towards him. He paused, looking into your eyes. And then, when he was satisfied with whatever he saw there, he kissed you. Softly, one arm around your waist, the other resting on your cheek.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First two dates, you and Roger move on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally I only planned for 5 chapters but this one changed a bit from the original outline and was getting way too long so theres now going to be 6 chapters all up.

You changed your outfit about sixteen times before you settled on the right one. It had actually been the first one you chose – a dress you were sure Roger had never seen you in before – but you’d had to rule out everything else you owned before you could be sure, or rather, before you could feel less anxious about the decision. You were determined to look your best and to make sure he evening was fun, even though the nerves twisting in your stomach made you want to pick up the phone and cancel again. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go, it was just the pressure of it all. Everything that had happened between you and Roger felt like a lead up to this date. Like a great big drumroll building and building until he knocked on your door. And you couldn’t help feeling like there was a big chance you were going to fuck it up, probably for good. So, one by one you held your clothes up in front of the mirror and one by one you added them to the _absolutely not_ pile, discarding them for reasons big and small – too uncomfortable, too hard to get in to, too much a colour Roger didn’t like. The pile of clothes deemed not good enough had steadily grown larger as you added outfit after outfit – this one was too slutty, this one not slutty enough, and this one was something your mother would have suggested and therefore a definite no. Until eventually you’d been left with the dress you originally pulled out and a sense of satisfaction with your choice. Despite the urge to throw up you felt at the knock on the door, the decision was made even more satisfying when Roger took one look at you and whistled.   
“You ready to go?”   
“Yeah just let me grab my bag,”   
“Not tempted to cancel again?” he winked as he asked so you knew he was joking but it still made you cringe.   
“Do you start all your first dates trying to make the girl feel as guilty as possible?”   
“Only the good ones. C’mon,”   
He took your hand and led you out towards a 60s Morris Mini that was parked on the street between your units.    
“No van tonight?”   
“Of course not,” he said as he opened the door for you, “you didn’t think that was my main ride, right?” he closed the door behind you, shooting you a disbelieving look through the windshield as he ran round to his door.   
“Well it’s the only one I’ve ever seen you in,”   
“No, this is my baby,” he lovingly tapped the dashboard as he started the engine, “The van I just got to lug around stage equipment. Couldn’t fit a drumkit in here.”   
“No you could not,” you laughed, taking in the small interior of the car.   
“Hey, don’t laugh at her. She was a gift from my mum when I moved up here.”   
“Sorry, just not the car I pictured you in. It’s cute though.”   
“She is a bit small actually. Very hard to get a girl into the back.”   
“Might have to ask for proof later,”   
Roger looked over at you briefly before looking back at the road, “I’m just gonna say this now and get it out of the way so I don’t make this date too awkward later on, but,” he paused and took a deep breath that only made the nerves twist your stomach into knots, “we don’t have to have sex tonight. If you want to take this slow or you want to set some boundaries to start it’s okay, I’d understand.”   
You smiled at him as he glanced back over again. His thoughtfulness as least helped ease your lingering worries about his sincerity about dating you, “Thank you. But you don’t have to like take a vow of chastity to prove you’re for real or anything.”   
“Because if you did want to wait, I’d get it,”   
“Rog, relax. Let’s just see how tonight goes okay? Besides,” you laughed, “sex might make things feel more normal.”   
“I’m happy to do anything to help make it more normal. If that means sneaking into the restaurant bathroom with you then so be it.”   
After that you fell into an easy conversation, your nerves almost reduced to those you’d feel on any other first date.

“Have I mentioned how gorgeous you look tonight?” Roger said softly as he pulled your chair out for you. The restaurant was small though by no means empty, other tables holding other dates as well as a family or two. A few of the other people looked familiar, other students you’d seen around campus or the pub, and you quickly realised this was the go-to spot for a fairly cheap date. Nice enough to impress but not enough to break the bank.   
“I was going to pay you the same complement. I think this might be the first time I’ve seen you in something other than those ratty jeans.”   
“Oi, don’t hear me insulting your wardrobe. And I wear plenty of other stuff.”   
“Mmm you do, I must admit I’m a little jealous of your collection. I just have one question, and stop me if this is rude, but how the fuck can you afford so much?”   
Roger chuckled and, looking around for eavesdroppers, crooked his finger so you’d lean it, “That’s my secret though, love, I can’t,” he sat back in his chair, comfortably relaxed, “They’re all nicked from the stall.”   
You did your best to ignore the flip your stomach did at the sound of the pet name, “The one you and Freddie run? Kensington, right?”   
“Did Fred mention it?”   
“Yeah, th\- the night we all hung out in the van he told me about it,” you hoped Roger would ignore your slight stutter at the memory of what had happened after that night, “Said I should drop by if I got the chance.”   
“You should!”   
Your conversation was briefly interrupted by the waiter, another familiar face you were sure you’d seen around campus, coming to take your order.   
“What was I saying?” Roger asked once you’d ordered, “Oh wait I remember! The markets are great fun even if you’re working there. Plus, I’m sure I could find you something to buy off us.”   
“That desperate for sales you’ll shill to your friends?”   
“Of course. Easier marks since they care whether we can afford food.” he laughed, “no but you should come. I could take you if you want? As long as you don’t mind being called on to help sell a thing or two.”   
“Sounds like fun.”   
“That's settled then, you can come watch me work.”   
“Second date sorted then?”   
“Believe me, as fun as the markets are, I would not be taking you there as a second date. For one thing Fred’d be there the whole time and I’m not so keen on a third wheel so early on.”

Your waiter returned with the bottle of wine Roger had ordered and a promise the food would be out shortly.   
“So, Rog,” you said as he poured you a glass, “Tell me about yourself. Y’know, considering how much time we’ve been together, I don’t really know much more about you than your name.”   
“What do you want to know?”   
You paused, unconsciously sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you pondered the question, “I don’t know. Everything,”   
“Is that one of your first date moves? The slight lean forward so he can see down your top, the lip bite, the_ everything_?” Roger’s imitation of you fell into laughter.   
"Do people actually have moves? I’m just curious,”   
“I’ll take that as a complement then. Where to start though...”   
There was barely a pause to your conversation. The only disruptions came in the form of your meals arriving, and moments when you both pulled yourself away from talking long enough to remember to take a bite. Otherwise one of you was always in the middle of a thought. He took your words to heart, telling you about his family and his friends and his studies and his band and anything you hadn’t covered in the time you’d already known each other, which was admittedly quite a lot. And it seemed that for every anecdote Roger shared you were called upon to share one of your own, his interest in you equal to yours in his. It was an easier first date than you could have possibly imagined, awkward silences replaced by curious questions, discomfort replaced by familiarity, leaving you both trying to time sips of your drinks for moments when you weren’t likely to spit it out as you fell into another round of laughter.

“So,” Roger said as he led you back out of the restaurant, leaving the waiter to clear away the empty plate from your shared dessert, “be honest, was it as terrible as you thought it would be?”   
“No,” you said with a huff of sheepish laughter, “I’m happy to say I had a really lovely night. Feel like even more of a knob for the whole cancelling thing but I’m glad I eventually got my shit together.”   
“Me too. Smoke?” he offered you the pack he’d dug out of his pocket but you waved him off, pushing yourself to sit on the hood of his car as he dug in his pocket for his lighter. He held it long enough to take two drags before you were taking it from his fingers and pulling on it yourself.   
“Hey, I offered you one,”   
“I didn’t want a whole one, just a puff or two, here look you can have it back,” he took it off you, stepping between your legs, eyes locked on yours as he put it between his lips again. To your surprise he stubbed it out under his foot as he breathed out the smoke.   
“What a waste! If you didn’t want it I could’ve taken it,”   
Roger smiled at you as he leaned in close. You could taste the smoke on his breath as he kissed you, softly, his hands resting on your thighs.   
“Was that okay?” he was still leaning in close.   
“Rog,” you said sternly, “stop asking if I’m okay. I’m not going anywhere,” to prove it you placed your arms over his shoulders, pulling him into another kiss, deeper and longer. It seemed to be convincing enough, his hands slipping up until they were on your waist pulling you against him. The skirt of your dress was askew, pushed out of place as his hands rose further up your body, exposing the top of your thigh. Neither of you could bring yourselves to stop for longer than it took to take another breath, hungry for more. Heedless of passersby, on their way to the restaurant or heading back to their cars. Your hands began to wander, sliding back over Roger’s shoulders, deceptively muscular from years of drumming, and down onto his chest. The buttons of his shirt pressed into your palm, daring you to undo them.   
“Think I’d like to see that backseat now,” you panted against his lips, toying with his top button, able to feel his breath as he sighed.   
“Told you, backseat’s too small,”   
“Well you could always come back to mine,”

He drove you home, moving his hand from the gear stick to your thigh whenever he could, and pulled back up in the same spot you’d found the car when you left, opening your door for you once again. There was something oddly domestic about the way Roger took your bag as you fumbled getting the key into the lock, following you inside. It made your chest feel tight, the slightly sick nervous feeling rearing its head again.    
“Do you want a drink?” you asked, already reaching for your wine glasses.   
Roger’s seemed distracted as he turned to face you, his gaze pulled away from the doorway to your room, “Uh, think I’ll pass,”   
“Alright,” you shrugged, putting one glass back “hope you don't mind if I have one anyway,”   
“Actually, I think I’m going to get going,”   
The slightly sick feeling only got stronger, “Oh. Okay then,” had you misread the situation?   
“I had a really great time tonight,” he said as he took your hand, “Just...don’t want to rush anything, y’know?”   
“Okay. Do you, um, do you wanna go out again?"   
“How about Thursday night? I’d say earlier but I’ve got a couple late classes and then some sessions with the band.”   
“Thursday sounds good.”   
“Cool, I’ll see you then.”   
He kissed you once more before he left. You could hear his footsteps as he walked the short distance to his front door, while you sat in your quiet kitchen trying to work out what Roger had meant by _not rushing anything_. Your whole relationship was essentially built on rushing things. The first time you’d spoken he’d had his hand under your skirt and within minutes he’d been in your bed. Now he was worried about it? And talk about mixed signals. Between his comments about the backseat that was practically an invitation to climb on back there and his assurance that you didn’t have to have sex which almost sounded like he was trying to convince you not to, and the way he’d kissed you and kept touching your thigh and then decided to leave, you felt like you had whiplash. It made you feel anxious, going over every moment to try and figure him out as you lay in bed and worried that things would never quite be okay between you. 

Luckily you didn’t have much time to dwell on it during the week. Your classes were starting to ramp up towards exams and you found yourself being bombarded with topics to revise in preparation. A few times you saw Roger around and each time brought a twinge of uncertainty that kind of made you want to throw up, but it was always pushed from your mind fairy quickly, replaced by only marginally less puke-inducing thoughts about studying. In fact, you barely had a moment to think about your second date before Thursday evening arrived and Roger was once again knocking on your door. During a very brief conversation you’d had upon bumping into each other between classes, he’d advised you to dress casually, so he found you in jeans and t-shirt. You’d contemplated wearing a skirt, learning from previous mistakes, but you couldn’t be certain how he’d react to it. Would he teasingly scald you for not dressing casually enough or would he pull you into a public bathroom again? Jeans were the far easier option. Plus it made it that little bit harder for him to get into your pants if that  _ was _ what he wanted, and you kind of  liked the idea of making him work for it. 

When Roger pulled into the carpark behind the pub you looked at him with raised eyebrows, the now familiar sick feeling only getting stronger, “Really? Here?”   
“C’mon it’ll be fun. We had fun last time,”   
Last time when everyone at the bar had heard you moaning for him. Last time when you’d hung out in his van. Last time right before you’d made an arse of yourself and almost ruined everything.    
Roger must have sensed your hesitation because he put a reassuring hand on your knee, “Y/N?”   
“It’s fine, I’m being stupid,” you shook your head and pulled a smile onto your face.   
“Are you sure? We can go somewhere else if you want,”   
“I’m sure. Last time was very fun,”   
Roger looked at you for a moment longer but you were already opening the door and climbing out of the car. He hurried to follow, lacing his fingers through yours and giving your hand an encouraging squeeze. It felt easier once you were sat together at a small table off to the side of the room, a drink in front of each of you. You let yourself relax into your conversation, laughing at Roger’s jokes and becoming enraptured with the way he spoke. By the time the band came on stage you’d almost forgotten your earlier discomfort, happy to just sit with Roger and watch them play. Especially when he beckoned you to pull your chair closer to his, allegedly so you could see the stage better, though it also gave him the opportunity to wrap and arm around your waist.   
“What d’you think of them?” he asked suddenly, leaning towards your ear so you could hear better.   
“The band? They’re okay I guess,”   
“Would you say Queen is better?”   
“These guys don’t even come close,”   
“Correct answer,” he winked at you and placed a finger under your chin, tilting your face towards him. You sighed against his lips as he kissed you softly.   
“This drummer is especially unimpressive. Nowhere near as talented as Queen’s. Or as cute,”   
“Someone’s playing for the top prize,”   
“Mmhmm, did I win?”   
He leaned in to kiss you again, his hand resting on your knee, which you took as a yes. Slowly he began sliding his hand up your thigh. You shifted in your seat, turning your body to face him more, though he kept you from crossing your legs, pawing at your over your jeans. A small, quiet moan escaped you as he pressed the seam of your jeans against your clit and you felt Roger smile. He grew tired of not touching you properly though, deftly undoing your fly and wriggling his fingers under the waistband of your underpants.   
“Funny how often we end up here,” his voice was quiet enough that only you could hear him, yet practically demanding your full attention, “what’s the rule?”   
“I don’t know,” you half whined as Roger toyed with your clit.   
“Eyes on me, yes?”   
“Yes,” it took some effort but you managed to force your eyes open and bring them to rest on his face.   
“Good girl. You know why I want you looking at me?”   
You shook your head, biting your lower lip to keep from moaning too loudly.   
“There are two reasons. Number one, I don’t want you getting distracted worrying about who can see you. And two, I like watching your face. The way you get that pleading look in your eyes, almost begging me not to stop.” he paused, “Y’know this’d be easier if you’d worn a skirt. Which I’m fairy sure I’ve said to you before,”   
“D’youwanna find somewhere a little more private and help me out of these jeans then?”   
Roger’s finger stopped their motion and he tugged his hand free, “As tempting as that is, might be better if we head off.”   
“Head off like, go back to mine and spend the rest of the night together?”   
“I more meant... head off and go home to our own separate beds.”   
“Oh-kay,” you said slowly, trying to work out what you’d done wrong as he took your hand and led you back out into the warm night air. You were halfway across the carpark when you spoke up, “Why?”   
“Why what?”   
“Why do you want to go home already?”   
“I’ve got an early class tomorrow.”   
“Do you?” you dropped his hand, crossing your arms over your chest.   
“Yes. Why would I lie about class?”   
“I don’t know Roger. But you’ve been so fucking hot and cold with me I don’t really know what to think. Seriously though, what the fuck is your problem? Like one minute you’re inviting me into the backseat of your car and then next you’re saying you don’t want to rush things. You’ll touch my thigh, you’ll finger me under the fucking table but the minute I suggest we actually have sex you back off again!”   
“I know. I’m just...” he shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked a loose stone across the carpark. “Nervous. After what happened last time. The screaming match and the -” he broke off, biting his lip but you knew what he meant.   
You softened at his worried expression, “Rog, I’ve told you already that wasn’t your fault. I’m the one that started it.”   
“Yeah but I was way too rough with you that night. I could have hurt you, I did hurt you.”   
“I think your forgetting the scratches I left you with,”   
“That’s different. The way I choked you I could have done actual damage. And then there was the – the other part,”   
“Is this what things are going to be like from now on?”   
“What?”   
“Is that whole fight going to _infect_ every interaction we have? Every time I’m reminded of it I feel awful and embarrassed and guilty, and I can’t help but panic. You keep pulling away because of a bad angry fuck. What if we never get past it properly? What if we can’t?”   
He kicked at the gravel again, not making eye contact, “No, I think we can. The moments when we’re talking and I forget about everything else that happened are really good. I just think it’ll take a bit of time to completely move on.”   
“What happened to putting it behind us?”   
“Easier said than done,” he shrugged, “Come on, we can talk about it more in the car.”   
You nodded and followed though you weren’t really paying attention. Instead you were going over everything in your head, trying to find a solution. Just waiting it out wasn’t good enough. There was too much uncertainty and doubt. You needed to_ do_ something. Something that would put Roger’s mind at ease about potentially hurting you and fix the discomfort you felt. Roger opened the door for you but you didn’t get in.   
“Y/N?”   
“We need to have sex.”   
“We literally just went over this,”   
“No, I know, but we need to. I said it on our first date and played it off as a joke but the more I think about it the more sense it makes. Sex would make things feel more normal.”   
Roger just looked at you.   
“Think about it Rog. Our whole relationship was built on it. Our very first interaction was you seeing me masturbate and then finding me here,” you pointed at the building behind you, “and fingering me in a room full of strangers. It wasn’t until after we’d slept together a few times that we actually like, talked properly.”   
“I don’t know. It’s not that I don’t want to, Y/N, I do. Fuck I want to, but...”   
“I get it,” you said softly, taking his hand in yours and gently rubbing your thumb over his skin, “But it won’t be like last time.”   
There was silence for a few moments as Roger considered but then he nodded, “Okay, yeah. Um... hop in and we’ll go back to yours.”   
“There’s a perfectly fine car here, why drive all that way?”   
"Privacy maybe?”   
“Rog, since when have we cared about being in public?   
“Touché. But I meant what I said before about the lack of space. Might wanna take your pants off before you get inside.”   
“You first,”   
“No need to be so suspicious, was your idea remember,” but he kicked his pants off all the same, throwing them into the drivers seat followed by his underwear, “I can’t believe you’ve convinced me to go balls out behind the pub,” Roger said as he folded the front seat forward.   
“Didn’t really take much,” you looked around to double check for any peeping toms before quickly pulling off your own jeans. They joined Roger’s, though unlike him, you kept your underpants on, “besides, I heard about you losing that bet and running starkers around the block, I know you’re not shy about this sort of thing.”   
“Losing a bet is losing a bet. I knew the cost and I paid it,”    
“Yes well, apparently that bet and sorting this,” you waved your hands between you, “this mess out, have the same cost,”   
“A cost you’ve noticeably not payed,”   
“Don’t worry, I’ll get there. But there’s something I want to do first.”   
Roger looked confused until you kneeled at his feet, “Woah, love,”   
“I’m pretty sure I owe you a blowjob, remember?”    
“I remember, but here? That gravel can’t be comfortable.”   
“It’s fine, it won’t last long.”   
“Excuse you but I think we both know I can last.” The end of his argument was lost in a gasp as you wrapped your hand around his length and squeezed just a little, smiling at his instant reaction. Without another word you looked up at him and took him in your mouth, sucking until he groaned, his hand flying out to brace himself against the roof of the car. You bobbed up and down, gradually taking him deeper, until he hit the back of your throat and you gagged. You pulled back off him, sliding your hand over his length, spreading your saliva out. And then you were back on him, though not taking him quite so deep, pumping your hand over what you couldn’t reach, hollowing your cheeks as you tried to draw more pretty noises from him.    
“Y/N, love,”   
You hummed in response, earning another groan and his fist banging on the roof of the car twice.   
“Jesus, I know I said I could last longer, but I swear to god if you keep this up, I won't,”   
You pulled back and smiled at him, “Isn’t that kind of the point?”   
“‘Spose so,”   
“Besides, we’re in the middle of a carpark and I’m kneeling on gravel. Think I’d prefer this to be over a little bit quicker,”   
That made him laugh, covering his mouth so as not to attract any attention from a gaggle of people exiting the bar and jumping into a car, “I told you it’d be uncomfortable,”   
You hadn’t explicitly said it and you had no idea if Roger realised, but there was a sense of apology in your actions. Modern day self-flagellation, though perhaps that wasn’t a good metaphor since you were quite enjoying yourself despite the stones pressing into your knees. But in your mind, this made things more even, went some way to erasing the awkwardness and discomfort you’d created. And that spurred you on, made you want to give him a good performance.    
“Quiet, smarty pants and let me get back to it,”   
He gave you a _go on then_ wave with one hand, “was only warning you in-n case you – fuck,” Roger’s head fell forward as he moaned and you picked up the pace, mouth and hand moving in tandem to push him over the edge. Thankfully no one was around to hear him as he moaned, knuckles white where he held onto the car, hips jerking as you milked his cock.   
“In case I what?” you asked swiping at the corner of your mouth with your thumb, as a precaution.   
“I was going to say, in case you were planning on riding me before I came, but it’s a bit late for that now,”   
“Little bit,” you held out your hand so he could help pull you to your feet, dusting off the gravel still stuck to your knees as soon as you were up, “you still want to do this?”   
“More than ever, just give me like a minute,”   
“Sure, you know how much I love standing around in public half naked,”   
“Take your knickers off and we can talk about half naked. How are your knees?”   
“They’re fine,”    
“Good,” he stepped in close, trapping you between himself and the open car door.   
Your breath hitched as he kissed you, his fingers sliding into your underwear again. To any observers crossing the carpark on the way to or from the bar you would have appeared a regular loved up couple, stealing a kiss before you got in the car and drove away. At least, until they walked behind you and saw Roger’s bare arse and your spread legs. Not that you would have noticed if someone had walked by, much too caught up in how Roger’s fingers felt working their way into you, stretching you out.    
“Aren’t you just a filthy little slut,”   
“Only when you’re around.”

Roger wrenched his fingers free of your pussy, and stepped back half a step, holding his arm out towards the interior of the car, “Ladies first,”   
You’re just saying that to get a look at my bum,” you laughed, but you climbed inside all the same, pulling your shirt off as Roger followed and slammed the door behind him. In seconds he was reaching for you again, finding your lips again. It felt nice to be wrapped up in him once more, his touch lighter than it had been in the past, remnant concern manifesting physically. You placed your hands over his, giving him permission to be that little bit firmer as he lay you back, your head propped up against the wall behind you, taking a few seconds to look you over before he began rolling your underwear down your legs.    
“Wait, um, if you bend your knees for me,” he said, awkwardly trying to reposition himself to get them off your ankles. When he finally had them in his hand he slingshot them into the front seat, drawing a laugh from you. You let one leg fall to the floor as Roger pulled his shirt off, leaning forward so as not to punch the roof of the car. Once his shirt had been tossed aside he brought his hand back to your wet folds, running his fingers along you teasingly slowly.    
“Rog please,”   
“Love hearing you beg,”   
With a whine you readjusted yourself, scooting a little further back so more of your head rested against the wall, getting your neck into a slightly more comfortable position. He leaned over you in search of another hungry kiss but broke it off when you whimpered into his mouth.   
“Did I hurt you?”   
You shook your head, “just want you to fuck me already,”   
“Just, hang on love, give me a second,” he said as he tried to find a comfortable position.   
“Maybe if you move back a bit?”   
“My arse is already so close to the window I’m mooning anyone who looks this way,”   
You let out another laugh, “Can’t you just kneel on the seat?”   
“Not unless I want to bump my head. Can you move?”   
“Rog If I try to move back any further I may as well sit up,”   
“That could work,” he grabbed your arm and pulled you up so you could move across to straddle his lap.    
“Alright, just give me, shit-” your forehead whacked into Roger’s both of you swearing. You fell into another laughing fit as you landed on his lap, arms around his neck, though Roger wasn’t quite as amused.   
“God, are you okay?” he asked, pushing your hair back to examine the site of impact, “I told you it was small,”   
“Might not wanna say that while your dicks hanging out,”   
His eyes narrowed at you, “Yeah, you’re fine.”   
“Mmhmm, think this can work,” you wrapped your hand around Roger’s cock, making him hiss as you stroked him. You raised yourself onto your knees too fast and felt the top of your head collide with the roof of the car.   
“Oh Jesus bloody fuck,” you almost yelled, dropping back down straight away and rubbing the top of your head.   
“Christ Y/N,” Roger said getting you to look down so he could see the top of your head, “that sounded bad.”   
You rubbed the spot you'd hit, “It’s nothing,”   
“That’s it, I’m taking you home. We gotta get some ice on it.”   
“I’m fine,”   
“Y/N, it’s a head injury,”   
“It’s a bump Rog, nothing serious,”    
“It could be serious. I study biology, I know how fucking fragile the skull can be.”   
You sighed and lay a hand on his cheek, “Roger, I’m okay. This is not a sign from the universe or anything like that. It’s a small bump because I want you so bad.”   
“You sure you don’t want me to get some ice?”   
“Oh I am much too horny for that,”   
Roger still looked a little concerned but he chuckled along with you and dropped his hands to your waist, “you’ll let me know if you want to stop?”   
“You know I will.”

Going slower, taking a little more care, you tried to mount him again, managing it without injury. Roger still seemed wary, his hold on you lighter than you wanted but once again you placed your hands over his, pressing on his fingers until he tightened his grip. Gradually you began rolling your hips against his, letting out small hums and tempting moans against his neck as you leaned in to leave a trail of kisses and grazed teeth. Roger was biting the inside of his cheek as if he were trying to keep himself under control, lest he go too far. He hadn’t been afraid to let his domineering side show while he was just using his fingers, but now that things had progressed, and in the wake of your self-inflicted head knock, he seemed to be holding back again. It wasn’t what you needed.   
“C’mon Rog,” you whined between sucking at his neck, “grab me properly. Slap me, pinch me, use me. Want you to show me what needy whores like me are good for.”   
He swallowed audibly, fingers twitching against you as you clenched down on his cock.   
“Got so turned on inside, hearing you call me a good girl. And I was so close to cumming just from your fingers,” you changed the motion of your hips, drawing a gasp from Roger.   
“That’s because you’re a slut who likes getting off in front of an audience,” his grasp still wasn’t hard enough, though he was clearly getting more comfortable and more eager to take charge the longer you talked, your steadily swiveling hips riling him up.    
“_Your _slut.”   
Roger growled. One of his hands left your hip to swat at your arse, and then it was back, his grasp firm enough to hold you still, “Enough. I know you’re desperate for me to use you again but we’ve got a problem,” he laced his fingers in your hair and tugged your head back, “Because you’re so fucking needy and couldn’t wait the ten minutes it would have taken to get home we’re here, where there isn’t enough space to do everything I want to do to you. Now, if you really want me to use you, I could always push you to the floor and fuck your mouth. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you stopped when I hit the back of your throat. Maybe it’s time I taught you how to suck dick like a proper whore.”   
You whined and tried to rock your hips but he pulled on your hair again.   
“Keep still.”   
“Sorry,”   
He raised his eyebrow and waited another moment before he continued, “I _could_ do that. But I like being in your cunt too much. So instead, you’re going to ride me properly. No more of these teasing little rocking movements. You’re going to put those knees of yours to work and _ride me_, show me you can be obedient even when you’re on top. If you do well enough, I might let you cum.” He bucked his hips, a signal for you to get to it.   
Bracing your hands on his chest you raised yourself up and dropped down onto his cock, careful not to hit your head again, steadily building your rhythm.    
“Good girl,” he said softly, sliding his hands up your sides and around to your breasts.   
You gasped when he pinched your nipples, disrupting the rhythm you’d found which earned you a sharp spank and a warning to keep going. It didn’t help when Roger began talking again, whispering a filthy stream of consciousness monologue to you that covered every possible topic from the way your tits felt in his hands to why your neck looked better covered in his teeth marks to how much he loved being buried so fucking deep in your cunt, and everything in between. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, burning as he laid claim to every inch of you with his words and his hands and his lips. The feeling only grew when you heard a wolf whistle from the other side of the window followed by Roger’s hitched laugh.   
“Jesus, the way you just clenched on me. You really do like an audience, don’t you?”   
All you could do was whine, the need to cum only getting stronger as you repeatedly impaled yourself on him.   
“Go on, love, give them a show,” he spanked you again, pushing a moan from your throat and you wondered if the person who’d whistled was hanging around to listen in.    
You held onto Roger tighter as he raised his hips to meet yours, both of you chasing release. You were done for when he dropped his fingers to your clit, holding out long enough to hear him breathlessly order you to cum. He followed quickly, squeezing your hips again, as you collapsed against his chest. 

When you found the energy, you climbed off his lap and fell into the seat beside him, stretching your legs as much as you could in the limited space. Roger leaned towards the door, winding the fogged-up window down an inch to let some fresh air into the car, before he sat back and threw an arm around you, pulling you against his side.   
“Was that good?” he mumbled into your hair.   
“Brilliant. Told you there was nothing to worry about. Quite like it when you get all rough, really.”   
“I know. Couldn’t help worrying though, could I? I really like you, didn’t want to scare you off,” he said it casually but from how you were leaning against him you could feel his heart racing, your own speeding up too.    
You pulled away from him, just far enough that you could properly see his face, “I like you too Rog.” The shy smile you’d offered turned into a fully-fledged grin, the expression mirrored on his face, as he kissed you again.   
“Does this mean we’re all good?” you asked when he finally let you go, “no more weirdness?”   
“I can’t promise no more weirdness but definitely less. And I’m more than happy to keep sleeping with you until it's gone,”   
You giggled, head falling into the crook of his neck, “maybe not in the car again though.”   
“I’ll bring the van next time, give us a bit more room,” he bumped your shoulder playfully with his, “don’t want you hitting your head every time you get too impatient to wait,”   
“Ooh next time? You got any ideas?” you asked, reaching to grab your shirt and throw Roger his.   
“Like what we’re gonna do?” he paused as he pulled his shirt on, “Not really. Exam preps kinda taken over my brain. Only came up with coming here last minute,”   
You laughed as he scrunched his nose up and leaned forward to retrieve the rest of your clothes, “let me guess...close and cheap?”   
“Pretty much. Hey!”    
“Sorry, couldn’t resist. You’ve got a cute bum,”   
“No need to pinch it!” he laughed, throwing your jeans at you, "Think I better take you home before you get any more ideas,”   
“Yeah alright, can’t sit here half-dressed forever. Chuck us my knickers would you?”   
Roger threw the underpants at you, laughing as he watched you wriggle back into them. Carefully he opened the door, sticking his head out to check the coast was clear before he climbed out and hurriedly pulled his jeans on. You did the same, trying to be as quick as possible, while Roger put the front seat back into position and went round to the driver's side. 

The drive back to your street was comfortable, his hand again falling to your knee whenever it wasn’t on the gear stick, but this time there was no question of what it meant. You were still laughing at a joke he’d made when he walked you to your front door.    
“You wanna come in? I could make you a coffee if you want?”   
“I would but, early class.”   
“Oh yeah, forgot about that. You know, you live right next door though, could stay for a couple of hours at least. Or just stay the night and then jump the fence in the morning.”   
“I can’t believe I’m about to turn you down but I really can’t. I swear most days I’d say fuck the class but with the exams so close I can’t afford to miss it. And I know if I did stay, I wouldn’t want to leave.”   
“I get it. I should probably crack open a book before I turn in anyway,”   
“I’ll talk to you soon though, okay?”   
“Yeah, okay,”   
Roger wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug before laying a soft goodnight kiss against your lips.   
“You better go or else I’m going to ask you to stay again.”   
“G’night. And put some ice on that bump before you go to bed, okay?”   
“Goodnight Roger.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exams, a car show, and an entirely too long wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh my god its finally here. The last chapter. I am so sorry it's taken so long but it's been super busy around home and whenever I did get a chance to write I got very worried I was going to balls it up and ruin the whole story lmao. Anyway, I've really loved writing this series and these characters and I hope you enjoy the last part!
> 
> Also the British International Motor Show was a real thing that really was held at the Olympia. And Roger did eventually own a Ferrari and a Mercedes, although as far as I know not a Rolls Royce (that was Freddie’s).

The exams hit you hard. Most nights were spent at the library, staying as late as possible before you dragged yourself home and collapsed on your bed, the morning alarm always coming too soon to start the whole thing over again. The biggest downside of the routine was how little you’d been able to see Roger since it started. When you had managed to catch him he looked as tired and stressed as you felt, neither of you capable of talking for too long before one of you yawned or remembered you were meant to be revising. It filled what little space in your brain that wasn’t already full of anxiety about exams with anxiety about your relationship. You still weren’t entirely sure how solid things with Roger were. They were certainly at a better, more normal, place after your two dates and a not-quite-a-date at the markets. Freddie had spent the entire first half hour you were there eying you suspiciously, as if you were going to bolt suddenly or tell him off. He stopped eventually though and you’d had a lovely day, helping to sell a few items when you weren’t wandering around with Roger looking at other stalls. But everything still felt so new and uncertain, especially after the rocky start you’d had, which left you not entirely positive you were officially a couple, and now you couldn’t help worry that the forced distance would make Roger lose interest in you or set you back a few steps after all the progress you’d managed. It didn’t help that you were on edge from not getting laid recently. The last time had been an age ago, in the backseat of Roger’s car. You would have slept with him again at the markets, or more likely after you’d gone home, except your period had started the day before and you couldn’t bring yourself to suggest having sex like that. So, since then you’d been on forced celibacy with only the end of exams to look forward to. Sure, you could have masturbated but between the hours spent sitting the exams and the hours spent cramming for them, you never seemed to find time for it. It all added up to a rather unpleasant desire crushed beneath a lack of sleep and a constant voice in the back of your head telling you that you were fucking something up. Unhelpful for cultivating a good mood or an opportunity to convince Roger to come over for a quickie. In fact, you barely saw him until the day after his final exam.

Feeling slightly better rested since you were free from needing to regurgitate months of class notes, you walked up next door’s driveway and knocked on Roger’s door.  
“Y/N, what a pleasant surprise, come on in,” Freddie said as he opened the door, “all done then? Exams I mean,”  
“Yes, thank god. You?”  
“Yeah, I finished earlier in the week. Never been more relieved in my life, although the day Rog finished was a close second,” he led you through the cluttered living room, your eyes slipping from the old, worn couch to the record player by the phone, into the kitchen where Roger stood, a bowl of cereal in his hands, eyes out of focus as he stared off into space, “Rog, wake up darling, the girl you’ve been whining about is here to see you.”  
Roger blinked, tired eyes falling to you and pulling a smile onto his face, “Y/N,”  
“Hey Rog,”  
He hastily put down the bowl and pulled you into a hug.  
You sighed into him, mind already more at ease than it had been when you arrived.  
“How were your exams?” He asked when he finally let you go.  
“Oh y’know, okay I guess. Probably failed one of them but I’m beyond caring right now, you?”  
“Yeah, yeah, all good I think. I’m just glad to be able to sleep normally again. Kept having this dream about turning up to an exam naked and then realising it was the wrong subject anyway.”  
“Jesus, Rog, if you’re going to sit here dissecting your dreams again I’m going to have to leave.”  
“You call yourself my friend,”  
“And aren’t you lucky for it. Just remember to wash out your bowl this time,” Freddie grabbed the cup of tea he’d been making and exited with a wave that you returned.  
“Was that because of me? Does he still not like me?”  
“He likes you fine, I promise,” Roger grabbed your hand and led you out to the living room, “I’ve just been driving him nuts these last few days.” He dropped onto the couch with a creak and pulled you down onto his lap.  
“Nuts how?”  
“Oh y’know, exam stuff mostly. Weird little rituals I started doing to make sure I passed, like, um, I had to wear a particular pair of shoes to every exam, my sparkly silver ones, otherwise I was convinced I would fail. Nearly had a breakdown when I couldn’t find them one morning. Stuff like that.”  
“Would the other stuff be related to his _girl you’ve been whining about_ comment?”  
“Maybe,” Roger looked away, as if slightly embarrassed to admit it, “I might have kept bugging him with questions about whether he’d seen you around. He went right off at me the other night, told me to pull my head in and just go see you but it was one in the morning so,” he shrugged as he trailed off, still focused on the other side of the room.  
“You really thought about me that much?”  
“Yeah, course,” he finally looked at your properly, “I missed… hanging out with you,”  
“Me too,” you smiled shyly, trying to work out if _hanging out _was a good sign or not. You decided to continue with the plan that had brought you to his door that morning, just in case, “But, if you’re up for it, I have an idea of something we could do tomorrow.”  
“Oh yeah? Does it involve making out a lot?”  
“I guess it could,”  
“Consider me there,”  
You laughed as he took hold of your chin and pulled you into a kiss. Maybe it was a good sign after all.

If Roger hadn’t broken off the kiss to yawn three different times, apologising after each one, you would have been hard pressed not to end up in his bed. He wasn’t quite as worked up as you were, admitting he’d developed the habit of wanking on the morning of every exam he had, but he was still eager for more than just making out, encouraging you to roll your hips and grind against him. But he was clearly too exhausted.  
“Where’re you going?” he asked as you wriggled off his lap and stood up.  
“You’re dead on your feet Rog, you should go catch up on some sleep,”  
“I’m not, come on come ba-“ he was cut off by another yawn.  
“See?”  
“Okay, fine. Maybe you have a point. But you don’t have to leave, you could come nap with me and then when I wake up in a couple of hours we can continue this, but tucked up in bed.”  
You laughed, “Nice try, Rog, but I’m gonna go home, let you rest properly. We’ll have all of tomorrow though. I’ll come by at tenish okay?”  
“Tenish it is. Can you give me a hint about what you have planned?”  
“No but I promise you’ll enjoy it.”  
“That could be anything,” he said as he walked you to the door, tilting his head and resting it against the frame.  
“Exactly. Don’t want to spoil it. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you made to leave but Roger caught your hand and pulled you back against him, leaving you slightly breathless, lips tingling with the kiss.  
“One for the road,” he shrugged, trying not to grin too much.  
“Go get some rest Rog,” you laughed, “Oh! And wear comfortable walking shoes tomorrow,”  
“Walking? That doesn’t sound like making out.”

You only had to knock once the next morning before Roger was opening the door, looking excited and better rested, though there were still heavy bags under his eyes. You’d seen the same bags on your own face but, thankfully, makeup covered a multitude of sins.  
“So, will you finally tell me where we’re going?”  
“No but if you don’t mind driving, I’ll instruct you where to go,”  
“You’re kidding me! You aren’t going to tell me anything but you want me to drive?” he narrowed his eyes and stared at you but you just smiled sweetly back until he relented, “good thing I like you so much or I woulda told you to shove it up your arse.”  
“You’re the best Rog,” you giggled, swooping in to kiss his cheek, “promise it’ll be worth it.”  
“Yeah yeah, get in the bloody car,” he shook his head but you caught him smiling to himself as he got into the drivers seat.  
“Your gonna need go left out of the driveway,”  
“I am, am I?” he said before following your instruction and turning left. You directed him there with only one minor detour when Roger managed to get stuck in the wrong lane and missed his turn. A few streets away from your destination he saw a sign directing passers-by to visit the British International Motor Show, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, but he said nothing, just let you tell him where to go. You could tell he was getting more excited with each street you directed him down, trying not to get his hopes up as you seemed to creep closer to the show. The dam burst when you told him to pull up in the carpark of the Olympia.  
“No fucking way,” he said softly, trying to concentrate on not hitting any other cars as he pulled into a spot, even as his eyes darted around the crowd of people entering the venue, “You got us tickets to the motor show?”  
“Mmhmm,” you nodded, digging around in your bag for your pre-purchased tickets, “you mentioned on our last date that you were a bit of a rev head so I thought you might like it.”  
The way he looked at you made your whole body feel like it was infested with a swarm of butterflies. It was a look of barely contained glee and adoration that had you beaming right back at him. Once he was out of the car he hurried round to your side, pulling you into a hug and spinning you around in a circle as he squeezed you tight.  
“Christ, Y/N,”  
“I guess that means you like it?” you laughed as he put you back on solid ground.  
“Like it? This is the sweetest thing a girl as ever done for me. Might actually be the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. As if I needed more reasons to fall for you.”  
Your breath caught in your throat and the swarm under your skin went haywire but Roger barely seemed to realise what he said, too excited and impatient to see the show. He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the entrance.

Most of the day was spent wandering around the show, Roger almost bouncing from one car to the next. There were all sorts to see, some brand new and unveiled that morning, some the kind your parents had driven around in as teenagers. There were more economic models, aimed at families or young adults looking for their first car and some were high end, luxury models with sleek designs and shiny finishes. Those were the sort that caught Roger’s eye most, never mind the outrageous prices you couldn’t even dream of affording. It was while standing in front of one of them, a gorgeous black Rolls-Royce from the mid-60s, that you nudged Roger with your elbow.  
“Y’know how when I first saw your Morris I said it wasn’t the type of car I imagined you in?”  
“Yeah,”  
“This is the sort of car I was picturing.”  
“Really? I’ve always loved a Rolls. Them and Ferraris. As a kid I used to have pictures of them ripped out of magazines and stuck up on my bedroom walls. Well, them and about a hundred other cars,” he chuckled at the memory and then fell silent for a bit, lost in thought, absentmindedly squeezing your hand.  
You were about to ask what he was thinking when he spoke again.  
“One day I’m going to own one.”  
“Are you now?”  
“Yup. One day Queen’s gonna hit it real fucking big. I’m not just saying that either, I mean it. We’ve really fucking got something the four of us, and one day we’ll have the number one song in the country and sell so many albums I’ll be able to buy one of each, a Rolls and a Ferrari. Maybe a Mercedes too. And I’ll take you out in them, wherever you want to go. We could drive down the coast, spend the weekend in our beach house. Or maybe out to the countryside, nice and peaceful and quiet. And if we stay at home I’ll take you out shopping. We’ll go to all the high-end stores and buy everything we want. Shoes and jewels and fur coats and everything."  
You leaned your head on his shoulder as he spoke, “That sounds wonderful,”  
“You haven’t heard the best part though,”  
“Oh?”  
He dropped his head down, lowering his voice so only you could hear him, “Haven’t even mentioned how I’ll fuck you in the change rooms of all those fancy shops. A hand over your mouth to keep you quiet because we both know how loud you get.”  
It was a mark of how long it had been that you began panting just from feeling his breath against your ear, “Looks like this car has enough room in the backseat. Just in case the shops are closed.”  
He stood up straight again, laughing, “Maybe we’ll sneak in there later. Shame I’m not rich already, could’ve just paid off the security so he’d give us a few moments alone with the car.”  
You knew he was joking about sneaking into the car but it didn’t help you calm down at all. Roger must have sensed your need, had probably been able to feel it seeping out of your skin, because he spent the rest of the day teasing you with small touches and whispered comments. He may have given up the teasing and just fucked you except that the number of people and the amount of security hired kept you from finding anywhere even remotely appropriate. The bathrooms were too crowded, extra portaloos hired and placed around the side of the building to accommodate everyone, and the back of the building faced the carpark and had a constant stream of people passing by or standing around directing traffic and loiterers. You considered suggesting the backseat of his car again but your head and thighs ached at the thought. After a final quick look around inside you decided to call it a day and head home where there was plenty of space and a big comfortable bed waiting.

By the time you arrived home it was early evening, your feet sore despite wearing your most comfortable pair of shoes. Roger’s stomach grumbled as he walked you to your front door, a loud reminder that neither of you had eaten more than a few snacks vendors had been selling at the show.  
“I had so much fun today,” he said, valiantly ignoring his stomach, “like an unbelievable amount of fun.”  
“Me too. Didn’t realise a car show could be quite that good,” you teased, “You wanna come in? Keep the fun going? We could get dinner, watch some TV,”  
“You’ve spent all day with me, sure you aren’t sick of me yet?”  
“Course not. Come on you sound like your starving and I’ve got a coupon for pizza stuck to my fridge,”  
“Well who am I to say no to that?” he said as he followed you inside, “where’s the coupon, I’ll call the order in.”  
“You don’t have to do that,”  
“No, no, let me. Least I can do to thank you for today. Any preferences?”  
“Uh, pepperoni if you don’t mind,” you called from the kitchen, returning with the coupon and handing it to Roger.  
“I definitely don’t mind, pepperoni is obviously the best,” Roger laughed and picked up the phone, as you quickly ducked into your room and made sure it was tidy. He followed you when he was done, peering into the living room and the kitchen as he searched for you.  
“Don’t have to clean up on my account,”  
You jumped a little at the sound of his voice behind you.  
“I’ve been in your room before, you’re much neater than me.”  
“Surprised you noticed the room enough to make that judgement,”  
“True, was always much more interested in you and how little you were wearing,”  
“Exactly,” you said, trying not to let on how fast your heart was racing at just the mention of the previous nights you’d spent together.  
“But I’m very messy,” Roger shot you a grin as he walked over to your desk, fingers brushing lightly over a few of the knickknacks you kept there before he moved to your modest bookshelf. You weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself as you watched him investigate your belongings, perching on the end of your bed, hoping he liked what he found. For the most part he just brushed his fingers lightly over your belongings, smiling softly and occasionally pausing to make a comment. He picked up the candle from your desk to smell it, complementing the scent as he put it back in its place. A few of the books on your shelf were pulled off and held up as he asked your opinions of them. He found a pair of your sunglasses and pushed them into his own face, checking himself out in your mirror before taking them off again, and then turned his attention to your record collection, spending much longer examining it than anything else. When he was done shuffling through the stack, making impressed hums when he found ones he particularly liked, he turned back to you.  
“Well I’m sorry to say but you have fantastic taste in music and I really have no other choice but to steal half of them,”  
“Is that so?” you asked, releasing a relieved breath, “Doesn’t seem fair,”  
“Well,” he walked the few steps towards where you still sat, leaning down until his lips were mere centimetres from yours, “it’s either that or you keep them and I fall madly in love with you.”  
The butterfly feeling returned, “Oh?” It was all you could manage to say.  
A loud knock from the front of the house interrupted you.  
“That’ll be the pizza,” you said quietly, torn between answering the door and closing the space between you.  
The decision was made when Roger’s stomach growled again. He dropped a quick kiss to your lips and then stood up with a small sigh.

If it had been up to you the night would have been spent snuggled up on the couch, eating pizza, drinking wine, and goofing around, until you retired to the bedroom and let the street hear you screaming Roger’s name. And you were pretty sure Roger’s mind was running along the same tracks. The only obstruction to your plan was the lack of sleep you’d both been suffering from, causing both of you to nod off before you could move from the couch. You woke in the morning, the TV no longer playing the comedy it had been left on but a test pattern card with odd organ music behind it. You blinked the sleep from your eyes as you tried to remember why you were on the couch and not in your bed, the night coming back to you as you sat up and realised you’d been curled up with your head on Roger’s thigh. He woke with a start when you stood up to stretch and turn off the TV.  
“Y/N?” he voice was still thick with sleep, eyes bleary and hair all over the place as he lifted his head from what must have been an uncomfortable position.  
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. We fell asleep on the couch.”  
“Oh, right,”  
“You can go back to sleep if you want,”  
“Nah, ‘m up now. Bathroom?”  
“Just through that doorway over there.”  
Roger nodded his thanks as he yawned and, rubbing his eyes, headed off. You grabbed the last of the, now cold, pizza and the wine glasses and followed him towards the kitchen, dropping the leftovers on the bench before turning to stick the kettle on. When he returned to the kitchen he looked marginally more alert, hair not quite the bird’s nest it had been when he woke. He dropped a kiss to your temple.  
“D’you want breakfast?” you asked, peering into the fridge, “I can do eggs on toast.”  
“Only if it’s no trouble,”  
“Not at all,” you grabbed the carton of eggs and the butter before you closed the fridge, “if you make the tea.”  
“I can do tea. Make a pretty good cuppa if I do say so myself.”  
“So you’re a tea connoisseur now?”  
“Never said that, where do your mugs live?”  
“Cupboard on the left,”  
“Ah ha,” there was a tinkling as he pulled out two, “All I’m saying is I’m good at making tea.”  
“Rog it’s adding boiling water to bagged leaves, not sure you can be bad at it,”  
“Well tell that to John. He’s a fantastic bassist but Jesus every cuppa he’s ever made me has tasted like shit.”  
You laughed, glancing away from the stovetop to watch Roger move about your kitchen like he belonged there. True, that might have been to do with how similar your kitchen was to his, most of the student accommodation in the area having the same basic layout, but it was nice all the same.  
“How do you take it?”  
“Uh,” your first thought was something entirely too inappropriate for so early in the morning, “dash of milk, two sugars,”  
“Coming right up.”

“So,” you said, dragging the word out as you brought your plates down to the table, Roger already there with the mugs of tea.  
“So, what?” Roger imitated your lengthened word, an amused lilt to his voice.  
“Dunno, you got any plans for today?”  
“Meeting the boys a bit later, band stuff. Might try and squeeze in a nap at some point. No offence but your couch isn’t overly comfortable to sleep on, although the cute girl using me as a pillow did help,”  
You giggled as he nudged your foot with his, it really was unfair how attractive he looked even when ruffled from a night on the couch.  
“What about you? Any plans?”  
“Oh, uhhh,” you didn’t have anything specific but couldn’t very well tell Roger you’d kept the day open in case he’d wanted to stay in bed with you for the better part of it, “Think my friends said something about going out for coffee, so I’ll see if they’re still keen for it.”  
“Oh yeah? Do these friends know about me?”  
“They know I’ve kind of had a thing going on and they know I was avoiding a particular guy for a while, but I haven’t, like, actually told them about you yet. Wanted to wait until I knew we were going to be okay, y’know?”  
“Yeah, I get that.”  
There was a moment of almost silence, the only sounds those of your knives and forks scraping across your plates. Your brain was suddenly much louder than it had been a second before, full of thoughts about whether or not you should tell your friends about Roger when you saw them, nerves about theoretically introducing them to him and then, oh god, introducing him to your family, having to meet his, all the stuff that a proper relationship would mean, all the stuff you’d been trying to run from when you’d cancelled that date. But there wasn’t really any way to go back now without everyone getting even more hurt than last time, he’d twice now said he was falling for you and, though you hadn’t vocalised it, you thought maybe you were falling for him too. But of all the thoughts jumbled in your head, the loudest by far was the realisation you’d be going another day without getting laid. It was torture. You’d got so close last night and god you wanted it so much. You had a brief vision of sweeping everything off the table, plates and cutlery hitting the floor, and Roger instantly pushing down your pants and lifting you onto the clear surface, his fingers slipping into your underwear and -  
Roger broke the silence and pulled you from the fantasy, “If you wanted you could come over tonight. I’ll make you dinner,”  
You shook your head to clear it, “really?  
“Yeah, really. I’ll even let you rummage through all my junk like I went through yours,”  
“Sounds fun, I’ll be there,”  
“Cool, uh, I think I should get home around three-thirty, so any time after that.”

Roger helped you tidy up the dishes before he left, another lingering kiss your souvenir, in addition to the desperate need to get off. You attempted to kill some time doing just that, but nothing seemed to be enough. It wasn’t Roger. You wanted Roger. And as lovely and terrifying a sentiment as that was, it did mean you had to go to meet your friends completely worked up and wet. When you told Roger later, sleepily blurting it out while curled up in his arms that night, he chuckled and, though it was dark, you could tell he was grinning. The same grin he’d been wearing when you knocked on his door that afternoon.  
“Is Freddie here?” you asked as he led you towards the couch.  
“No, just us. I’ve kicked the others out for the night. Freddie’ll end up staying with Bri or John, they were still arguing about it when I left them.”  
“Arguing?” you fell into the seat beside Roger, toeing off your shoes and curling your legs up under you, angling your body to face where he was leaning against the arm of the couch, one leg bent in front of him, one touching the floor.  
“Something about John’s girlfriend, I think, or maybe it was Brian’s roommate? I don’t know, I didn’t hang around to listen, they’ll sort it out,” he waved his hand dismissively, “But that means more food for us.”  
“So what are you making me then?”  
“Well, actually,” he glanced away, hand slipping into his shirt to rub his shoulder, “was thinking I’d order some takeout. There’s really nothing to cook with in the fridge and I’m a terrible chef anyway. I could offer you toast but the chance of it being edible is about fifty fifty. But there’s the chippy a few streets away or, um, an alright curry place, whichever you prefer.”  
“Fish and chips sounds good. I’ve eaten nothing but cake and coffee today so anything savoury would be brilliant really.”  
“So your friends were free then? How’d it go?”  
“Yeah, really fun. You might have been mentioned once or twice,”  
“Only once or twice?”  
“Once or twice is practically unstoppable gushing for me. They’re both insisting on meeting you, by the way, so that’s something to look forward to I guess,” you scrunched your nose up in discomfort.  
“I’d love to meet them,” he said, taking your hand leaning towards you, “And you’ve got nothing to worry about, they’ll love me. I’m very loveable.”  
You let yourself relax as you laughed, Roger joining in as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers trailing down your jaw, kissing you softly. 

It should have come as no surprise that you’d end up making out within minutes of arriving. The weeks since you’d last slept together plus the unfulfilled tension from the previous night all boiled down to a neediness you couldn’t remember feeling with anyone else, the soft kiss fast becoming firmer as you found yourself underneath Roger, fingertips digging into his back. He was grinding against you rhythmically, your skirt pushed further up your thighs, trying to pull you tighter against him, breathing getting more ragged with each passing moment. It felt good but there were too many clothes in your way, you needed more. A whine fell from your lips unexpectedly.  
“Someone’s a bit desperate,” Roger said, tone vaguely mocking, giving you just a hint of the teasing control he usually showed you, “should we move this to my room?”  
“God yes,”  
He grinned and planted another kiss against your lips before he pushed himself to his feet, pulling you up by your hand, not letting go until you were standing in the doorway of his room. It was similar to your own room in that it faced the back yard, a big glass door leading outside. The biggest difference was the curtain, open to let the sun in but no doubt it actually existed.  
Roger dropped your hand to cross the room and you turned your attention to the rest of it, tempted to rummage through his belongings the way he’d examined yours. If you hadn’t been so worked up you would have but instead you stepped into the room and glanced around, killing time until Roger was back against you. It wasn’t neat but it wasn’t as messy as you’d been led to believe it would be and you wondered how long he’d spent tidying it. The bookshelf wasn’t full and yet not all the books were lined up, some of them stacked in uneven piles, some leaning against others, no discernible order to them, though you could spot a few titles you recognised from your own collection. His desk held a stack of textbooks and a few loose pages of handwritten notes, and you could easily imagine him hunched over as he studied, scribbling down things he recognised as important even if his tired eyes and brain couldn’t fully comprehend them. Your gaze had just fallen on the neatest part of the room, his collection of records all meticulously lined up and just begging to be rifled through, when a noise drew your attention.  
Roger checked the back door was locked and drew the curtain over it, blocking out the view of the back garden and the natural afternoon light. Your stomach did a flip.  
“We, uh, we’ve never had so much privacy,” you tried to make it sound like a joke, though you weren’t sure you succeeded, suddenly feeling too nervous to speak properly.  
“Yeah, s’pose that’s true,” he gave a small half shrug and took the few steps towards you, stopping just in front of you, “but that’s okay. We’ll make it work,” and then his lips were on yours, the rough neediness almost forgotten as he held your face, reassuringly rubbing his thumb over your jaw. It helped you relax again, stoking your desire though you couldn’t help thinking things would be vastly different with an empty house and closed curtains. Your fingers fell to his belt, blindly struggling to unbuckle it, but Roger grabbed your wrist.  
“Hey, there’s no rush, okay?”  
“I know but it’s been so long,” it wasn’t a lie, it had been far too long, but that wasn’t the only reason you wanted to speed things up. You didn’t mention that you were nervous about your dynamic changing with the privacy, worried it wouldn’t be as good if you weren’t being controlled or degraded or performing for someone.  
“So you won’t mind waiting a little longer then,”  
You whined as his lips brushed over your neck, his hands still holding your wrists, “Please, I need you,”  
“Patience, love. First time I’ve had my slut all to myself, can’t blame me for wanting to take my time.”  
Your breath hitched at the name and the casual way it was said, not expecting to hear it when you were so closed off from the world and he was being so deliberately, infuriatingly, slow. It made your head spin.  
He let your wrists go, moving his hands to your shirt and pulling it up over your head, fingers trailing softly down your sides to toy with the waistband of your skirt.  
“Good girl for wearing this, you’re learning.”  
The praise made you shiver but it was nothing compared to his touch. Every light brush of his fingers made you want him more, had you almost vibrating with need, but he refused to speed up or even touch you where you most wanted him. And you melted into it, hovering on the edge of begging, surprised at how easily he could play you but not really surprised at all. Yes, it was just you and Roger with no one to see or overhear, none of that tension you loved so much that came with the possibility of being walked in on or caught out. But you didn’t miss it.

Your hands once again slipped to his belt and this time he let you undo it, taking the chance to tug his own shirt off as he kicked the discarded pants across the floor, before he slipped your skirt down your legs, kneeling as he did so, leaving a single big bruise on the inside of your thigh. He leaned back to admire the mark and you stepped out of the material pooled around your feet. For a fraction of a second you thought he was finally going to give you something real, his breath ghosting over the front of your underwear as he leaned towards you, still looking up at you, blue eyes glinting.  
“Hop on the bed, love,”  
He chuckled as he pushed himself to his feet, listening to you whine and curse even as you did exactly what he told you to. You didn’t stop complaining until his weight was over yours again, your legs trying to wrap around him and pull him against your throbbing cunt.  
He just held your legs down and laughed softly, “You’re still just a desperate slut aren’t you. Little bit pathetic how much you want me after a couple of weeks without. But no, you don’t get my cock that quickly. I told you I want to take my time.”  
“You want me too,” you whined, sounding nowhere near as convincing as you’d hoped, “I can feel how hard you are.”  
“Yes, I want you. Of course I do, love, been thinking about it since you came over the other morning.” Roger resumed the grinding he’d started out on the couch, dragging his cock along your folds, still too many layers between for you to be satisfied. It was torture, but no matter what you tried he wouldn’t give you more, “But there’s this little thing called delayed gratification, you might have heard of it.”  
“You’re such an arsehole,” you half whined, half laughed as he chuckled into your neck, doing his best to leave you with another mark.  
“Well, yeah. That’s not news. Maybe I’ll let you have my fingers though, since you have waited such a long time,”  
“Please, I need something, anything,”  
“Add ‘begs easily’ to the list of things I love about you,” he left a kiss against your neck and then shuffled backwards. He paused, glancing down to your underpants and then back to your chest.  
“What?”  
“You’re still wearing a bra. Can’t have that.”  
“Oh,” you giggled, “easily fixed,” you sat up and quickly unhooked the clasp behind your back, shrugging it from your shoulders and adding it to the clothing that littered the once clean floor.  
“Thank god for easy fixes,” Roger said softly, pushing his fingertips against your shoulder until you leaned back far enough for him to drag his tongue over one nipple.  
“Hey, you said fingers,” you whined.  
“You said anything,” he grinned back at you, “but I guess fingers could work too.”  
You hissed when he pinched your other nipple and pulled on it, gently biting on the first, “Rog, please,”  
He ignored you in favour of dipping his lips to the inside of one breast, sucking at the skin until another purple bruise formed.

Roger shuffled back further and you squirmed at the thought of finally, finally getting what you needed. Just the motion of him hooking his fingers into your underpants to pull them down had your stomach tightening with anticipation.  
As soon as they were free of your legs he held them up, “soaked,” was all he said before they too were discarded and he was settling into place between your legs.  
You could feel his warm breath against your pussy as he dragged a single finger between your folds, a whine escaping you as your frustration grew. And then the finger was slipping inside you, so easily it made Roger whine himself.  
“God you really are soaked. I was just teasing before but Jesus,”  
“M-more,” was all you could think to say, stuttering it out as you bucked your hips.  
“Patience, love,” he reminded you but added a second finger, pumping them into you slowly, still not enough. Your back arched as you tried to readjust your position so he’d hit the spots you knew he could but he just placed his other hand on your thigh, stroking you softly until you relaxed again.  
“Tell me what you want, love,”  
“More, please,”  
“More of the same? Just my fingers?”  
“N-no no,”  
“Then tell me,”  
“Your cock, please, want you to fuck me now,” the sentence devolved into a whine as he pulled his fingers from you, pausing to push off his underwear, and crawled back up the bed, hovering over you. Once again you tried to wrap your legs around him, arms around his neck to pull him closer, but this time he didn’t stop you. Instead Roger lined himself up and sunk into you, as easily as his fingers had, his hands slipping up to your sides. He dropped his mouth to your neck and then your jaw and then your lips as he slid his arms under your back to hold you tight.  
“My good, patient, girl. Fuck your cunt feels so good.” he said softly, quickly finding your lips again as he fucked you steadily.  
You whimpered at the praise, finally getting what you’d so badly wanted as you clawed at Roger’s back, making sure he wouldn’t pull away too far. Though he’d started off intentionally slowly, deliberately working you up before he’d even finished undressing you, now that he was finally inside you, finally where you both wanted him to be, he’d lost all of his methodical pace. His hands were on your back and then one was on your arse and then your breasts, unsure where he wanted to touch you most. He was kissing you passionately one moment and the next he was whispering filth into your ear, praise and degrading names alike, thoughts broken up by small hickeys sucked into your skin. The second it occurred to him that something might drive you wild he was doing it.

It didn’t take long for you to cum, so much pent-up desire coursing through your bloodstream that you fell over the edge easily when he hitched your leg higher on his hip. It changed the angle he was hitting you just enough to have him rub against your wall, a jolt running through you and stealing your breath.  
“So pretty when you cum, can you show me again?”  
You nodded, unsure you’d be able to form words if you tried. Small aftershocks were still making you whimper into Roger’s shoulder and yet you could feel the same tingly warmth building again already. “Oh,” the sharp sound escaped you when Roger’s thumb brushed over your clit, his breath hitching as you clenched around him, “Rog, god, ke- keep doing that,”  
He brushed your clit again and smiled as your head fell back, a low moan tumbling from you when he began rubbing it properly. All you could hear was rough uneven breaths, not sure they were yours or Roger’s, the sound dulled under your heart beating in your ears. And then suddenly you were there again, moans getting louder as you crept closer to the edge and fell over it. Roger’s eyes were squeezed shut as he thrust into you a few more times, extending the ecstasy you felt until he hit his own climax, coating your walls and gasping in your ear.

For a while neither of you moved, just lay there trying to clear your foggy minds. When he realised he was still laying on you, Roger carefully extracted himself and rolled onto his back, an arm stretched out, inviting you to cuddle up close. You did, humming lightly when he gently rubbed your arm.  
“So, was that good? Even with the closed curtains?”  
“Mmhmm, might go so far as to say unbelievably good.”  
“Any other adjectives you wanna throw out there? Mind-blowing maybe? Or Incredible? The best you’ve ever had?” When the giggles subsided, Roger continuing a little more seriously, “I really liked it too, y’know, having my girlfriend to myself and all.”  
You’d been expecting to feel anxious when the G word eventually got used. After all, it represented so much of what had made you nervous enough to run away, what still made you nervous about dating and what it might eventually lead to. But there wasn’t really any anxiety or worry when you actually heard it, maybe a small pang in your stomach but you barely noticed it. Instead you could have sworn your heart skipped a beat, “Girlfriend?”  
“Yeah,” you could hear the smile in his voice, “that okay?”  
You quickly flipped onto your front, bringing you face to face with Roger, “More than okay. Say it again?”  
“My girlfriend,” he grinned as he spoke and you felt an equally large smile stretch your own cheeks in response.  
“My boyfriend,”  
“Yeah, like the sound of that,”  
You kissed him hard, not quite believing how far you’d come since he’d first caught you masturbating or how much you liked being with him, dating him.  
“Y’know, I think we could fit in another round before we need to worry about dinner,” he traced his finger along your shoulder as if he were playing connect the dots with the hickeys he’d left you, “Two maybe. You always cum fast when I use you rough.”


End file.
